White Light
by ritsam
Summary: Set directly after ELAC. After their father's death Dean was emotionally broken and angry as hell. He wasn't thinking straight and hurt Sam emotionally. But Sam wasn't alright,emotionally and physically. Sick/Broken Sam; Guilty/Angsty Dean. BETA Vonnie836
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer : I don't own Sam & Dean Winchester. But I want to marry one of them!!!**

**Rating : K+**

**BETA : Vonnie836. She is just awesome.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Sam did not know how long he sat on the hood of that old broken SUV. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the blue sky. His head rested on the windshield, right hand behind his head and the other resting on his lap. A light breeze was gently blowing over him and his soft curly brown mop was swaying rhythmically and tickling over his eyes. Sam carded his hand through his wayward hair and pushed it away from his forehead. It was a peaceful noon, no noise, no crappy horns of vehicles, nothing. The only sound he could hear was his breathing, but he knew, this wouldn't last very long.

The young Winchester blinked several times as a dull headache set in behind his eyes. He slowly lifted his left hand and started massaging his mildly aching forehead. He remembered that he should have taken his medication a long time ago, but he'd ignored it. Why? Why should he take medication for his pain, when he didn't deserve it, when there was nothing left for him! Nothing, no one was left. Jessica was gone a long time now; he couldn't save her, when he should have. His dad gone too, Sam blinked back the moisture pooling in his eyes; dad died saving his brother. He made a deal to save Dean's soul, but Sam knew deep down, that it was his fault. He was the only reason Dean was in the situation requiring the deal. He was the reason the demon possessed his dad and ripped Dean's chest open. If he had listened to his Dad in first place nothing would have happened. Hell, but then his dad still would've died and he would've never been able to look up into his brother's eyes again. And then what would he been supposed to do? What?

Sam bit his lower lip hard and his nostrils flared, hell, nothing would've happened, if he had never been born. His mom was the first to die because of him. The memory made tears stream down over his pale cheeks, _**'Mom, 'm sorry mom, I know I'm the only reason, why you died that horrific death. Why…? Why did you leave me mom, it should have been me, not you, not dad, not Jessica. Now 'm going to die anyway, but now it's for nothing. I would sell my soul for anyone I lost, but all of you are cremated. If I had known earlier, I'd sold my soul for Dean, Dad would have lived, Dean would be happy, I would be in peace for that one thing I've done, done good.'**_ Sam brought his knees towards his chest and folded his arms around his knees. He rested his head atop his hands and cried softly. _**'I can't do anything good. Everyone around me dies. If I wanna do anything good, I should keep my mouth locked in front of Dean before he finds out what's wrong with me. I don't want to bother him anymore; he already had enough on his plate with me. And…and he was right, what I tried to do was too little, too late. But I can fix this now.'**_ Sam sniffed miserably.

Suddenly a piercing pain shot up in his head and he grabbed a fistful of his hair. The pain was unbearable and was getting worse by the minute. The doctor warned him to take his medication in time or else this kind of complication could happen. Stress or depression made the matter worse. Sam felt severe pain in his eyes, growing as rapidly as his headaches. It hurt to breath and he felt tremendously sick. Clumsily he got up onto his weak feet, but before he was able to try and leave the junkyard, his knees buckled and he fell to his knees, just as he started to heave. After expelling all of what little lunch he had eaten, he started to shake uncontrollably. Part of him wanted to call Dean, but then he had to confess the reason and he didn't want to be more of a burden than he already was. And after today's deed, after what Dean had told him, he didn't want to piss his brother off any more than he already was.

Sam fumbled in his jeans pocket and retrieved a bottle of Naphazoline. He shook the bottle a couple of times and carefully applied a few drops into both eyes. He rested his head on a car and blinked back the tears caused by the effect of the eye drops. The nausea had abated but the pain in his head was drumming mercilessly and his whole body was shaking as a fever started to develop. Even with closed eyes he felt everything around him was spinning and spinning and spinning. He couldn't stop the movement. He really wanted to lie down on a soft bed at Bobby's, but didn't have the energy to go back. Sam didn't know when his body slid down and hit the dusty ground as peaceful oblivion took a hold on him.

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Dean sat on the bar stool and absently stared at the beer bottles. Three empty bottles lay scattered over the table top besides the one he was holding. The bar was quiet, as it was only 5 pm. He had sat over here for the last two hour. He usually didn't drink this early, but he wanted to escape. Escape from Sam, from his constant pushing, his apologizing about Dad's deal, from his eyes, from everything. He wanted to throw something or punch someone after that bitter argument between him and Sam.

"_**Dean c'mon. I said 'm sorry." Sam grabbed his arm from behind and spun him towards him, "Look man, I'm sorry I said those words to you, 'm sorry about your car but, Dean, you gotta stop this. You can't go on like that. You have to control yourself. I know what you're feeling after dad…"**_

_**Sam's voice trailed awkwardly as Dean released his arm from Sam's and raised a warning finger toward his face, "Shut up Sam. Don't you dare! Okay, just don't you dare…"**_

"_**What? You're gonna hit me? Then c'mon, if you feel like it then just go ahead and take a swing."**_

"_**I don't want anything from you. I don't need you." Dean's voice boomed in anger.**_

_**Sam's eyes clouded as he heard Dean's statement. He lowered his head to hide his unshed tears and blinked, "Guess I figured that but Dean, I need you. I can't do anything without you. I…"**_

"_**That's perfectly our little Sammy Winchester, isn't it." Dean said in mock expression, "Always begs, always whines until he gets what he wants. Always the needy, whiny, pathetic, stupid brat." Dean almost wished he could keep his mouth shut but anger didn't let him stop it. It felt like anger, no, a volcano of anger possessed him, after he smashed his beloved impala with an iron crowbar, and lashed out at his little brother, who wasn't a little brother anymore then, just a target. A target Dean could hit, a bulls-eye at which Dean could throw his hellish anger, "This is all your fault you know that, right? I gave up all my life to raise you, to protect you, being referee between your desire and dad's reluctance and what have I got…a big hole of nothing. Oh no, I got a dead father, a smashed impala and a whiny. little. brother." Dean's threw his tirade towards his stunned brother.**_

"_**Why are you saying this to me?" Sam's voice quivered as he was on the verge of crying. His expressive hazel orbs glistening and his face becoming three shades paler.**_

"_**Because I want you to be honest with yourself. Hell, if you tackled that demon who possessed dad, nothing would have happened. I wouldn't have been in that shape and Dad wouldn't have sold his soul for me." Dean was practically screaming.**_

"_**What the hell should I've done then, Dean? Dad was telling me to kill him…ring any bells?" Sam had had enough. Why was Dean talking to him like this? Was he trying to tell him everything was just his fault, "If I'd killed Dad, would you ever forgive me? I tried to keep you both safe. What was I supposed to do then?"**_

"_**Well, you did a nice job to keep both of us safe Sam. You screwed up Sam, you screwed up as hell and now you're trying to be a good son? You think I deserve your stupid little speech?" Dean shoved Sam with his both hand and Sam tripped over his bed. He bowed his head as tears streamed down from his eyes. Dean noticed but didn't care, 'That's the typical Sam, always cries when someone tells him the truth.' He clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times and took his leather jacket from his bed. He had to get out from this right now, he had to calm himself down, before he do something more wrong than what he already did. He headed towards the door, when he heard a muffled sob, "He was my dad too." **_

_**Dean shut his eyes for a second and then turned his head toward his brother. Sam was still hunched down over the bed, a thin trail of yellow mucus running from his nose but he sniffed it up miserably. Dean grimaced, 'still like a baby' and headed to the door, "Hope you'll remember that." He muttered and then was gone.**_

'_**Man, I shouldn't have said those awful words to him,'**_Dean thought and took a swig of his beer. He knew that his brother was hurting but he couldn't fix it. He couldn't after what his father told him about Sam. Dean didn't mean to hurt his brother emotionally, but Sam was pushing him way more than he could bear. What he told his brother, was just his anger. But then he remembered his brother's tears, _**'he was my dad too'**_, Dean shook his head to wipe those images away, but his brother's hurtful gaze was still swimming in his mind.

"You okay sweetie?" A soft feminine voice startled him. A kind motherly face was looming over him.

'_**Oh yeah, I remember her. Sadie, the owner and bartender,'**_ Dean blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, _**'man, looks like this liquor's taking a hold on me,'**_ He grinned stupidly, "Yeah, yeah, 'm fine, yeah. Fine!" Dean couldn't believe that he was babbling.

"Well, you don't look that fine to me honey! Something bothering you?" She asked and slightly leaned to him.

"'S nothing. I'm okay Lady." Dean tried to stand up but stopped when a hand pushed him down to the stool.

"It's Sam, if I'm not mistaken?" Dean raised his eyebrows in astonishment as his protective instinct kicked in.

"How do you know my brother's name?"

Sadie smiled gently and removed her hand from Dean's shoulder, "Well, you're mumbling his name over here for a couple of minutes without noticing dear. And, I think I saw a boy with you one or two days ago," She smiled as she remembered the tall, lanky, sweet faced boy with the most beautiful eyes, "He was trying to get you out of here when you were full of liquor. Such a sweet boy."

'_**Oh c'mon, he and his puppy dog eyes. Always takes a hold on old ladies like 'm the grumpier one**__**here.'**_ Dean thought wryly, "Well you haven't seen him when he starts b*tching." Dean grumbled and tried to grab another beer bottle.

"No boy, he aint the b*tchy type, as I measured him. If you ask me I'd say he is very caring type boy. I just saw a glimpse of him, but the look in his eyes made me think that he cares about everyone a lot. He cares about you a lot…I saw it in his eyes."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Dean murmured, but he totally couldn't deny it.

Sadie frowned but continued, "I know how you're feeling now Dean. I know what it feels when somebody lost someone. You lost someone you loved the most, but you can't blame others for this, can you Dean?"

Dean's mouth agape in shock. How the hell did this lady know so much about them? How did she…

"Who the hell are you and how did you know about my father's death?" Dean asked quite angrily, as he tried his best to control his raging temper_, __**'how dare she talk about their family matter like that, did Sam…'**_

"No Dean, Sam didn't tell me anything," The lady seemed to read his thoughts now, "And, he wasn't only your father, he was Sam's father too."

Dean stared at her but he couldn't find his words. "I know that look Dean, I know because I lost my beloved one too. I know the pain, the grief…" Sadie carded a hand through Dean's hair and then rested her palm on his cheek, "…but you have to be strong. Your brother needs you. He is very much tormented and he's not thinking straight. You have to be there for him before it's too late."

"Wh…what do you mean before it's too late? What's gonna happen?" Dean stammered as a pang of fear raised inside his chest.

Sadie smiled sadly, "Nothing bad's gonna happen as long you're around your brother Dean." Dean gasped in another shock, "Go to your brother before it's too late. Go."

Dean stood abruptly and grabbed his jacket from the table top. His only concern then was for his brother. He had managed to create enough damage, but he had to fix them up now. How he blamed Sam…, _**'Oh my God, Sammy**_**…' **for their father's death, for everything and how he left him alone. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Sam. He had to reach Sam, he had to now before it's too _late_. He looked at his watch, it was only 7.00 pm; Sam should be in the café cum diner now, where he had been working since…since their father's funeral.

Dean bit his lower lip hard. A fresh wave of guilt was seeping through his veins. Sam had been working hard, wearing himself down for money that was really Dean's duty to earn. Dean knew that they needed money for living, but he was so wrapped in his own grief and wasted all remaining money on beer and fixing the car. He didn't even give it a thought that the money he had been spending was all of Sam's earnings. But his brother hadn't said a single word to protest, all he'd done was standing over him, lowering his head in shame, guilt, grief and accepted Dean's entire wrath on silence.

Dean hastily muttered a "thanks" to Sadie and ran out to the parked car. It was one of Bobby's junkyard cars, although still usable, it didn't always start right away. Six minutes later, after some colorful curses and countless attempts to start the car, almost drowning the engine in the process, Dean finally drove towards the café cum diner, breaking every speed record on the way.

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**TBC**

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: - As usual, a huge thank to my awesome Beta and friend Vonnie, you rock!!**

**Today is 19****th**** July… "Jared Padalecki Day"…Happy 27****th**** Birthday to My Jared.**

**~*~ I LOVE YOU ~*~**

"**Special thanks to Cindy and Kaylee, thanks for your awesome supports and also them who reviewed me for my little story. Your reviews make my day awesome."**

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**White Light**

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Sam hadn't been feeling so hot since noon. He remembered vaguely sitting in Bobby's salvage yard but then all he remembered a sudden piercing pain shooting through his head and then…nothing. Total blackness. Then a buzzing sound from his cell phone woke him up from his peaceful unconsciousness, telling him that he had set the alarm to remind him, '…have to go to the work'. It was almost the weekend and time for his pay check. But today he wasn't feeling well enough to work, he wasn't sure he could move a single limb after his sudden fainting spell. He looked at the afternoon sky and placed a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun light hurting him. His body was screaming for rest…for a fitful sleep, but he knew he had to go to work, or else…_or else_, he wouldn't be able to earn money; and they really _really_ needed money. They were living at Bobby's for the last month or so and he really didn't want to bother the old man for their living expenses. He had done so much for him and for Dean and he thought he should take some responsibilities for their survival. Well, now it was his responsibility since Dean was too oblivious of their surroundings and had forgotten that he should earn some money for their livelihood. But Sam knew Dean wasn't himself right now, sure his body was there, healthy and fine, but his soul was somewhere else. He didn't even bother to ask where the hell all the money was coming from and if they were out of their necessities or not. All he did was snatch the money Sam put on the table and go out without telling where or what he was heading for.

But Sam had thought about it. He never wanted to be a burden on Bobby. Sure the man was more than their father, but still, Sam needed to take some responsibilities of his own. So he took this job, though Bobby tried to prevent him from doing it, scolded him that he didn't need to take this crap job when their uncle was still alive. But being the son of a Winchester, he was set in his decision and took the work. Besides, he wanted to avoid Dean's presence, except when necessary, ever since their argument on the deserted road and since Dean smashed the impala with the iron crowbar, instead keeping himself busy with work or hunting, so he could forget his pain, his brother's hateful gaze, his own misery…everything.

Sam brought his left hand in front of his eyes to look at his watch…it was nearly 4:15. He got up slowly and brushed the dust from his clothes and took his only, worn out jacket from the hood of the broken SUV. He would have to walk almost one mile from here to reach his destination and he wasn't sure he was really up this today. He prayed to God not to let him do anything that he would regret later and weakly headed towards the exit.

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It was only a quarter past six, but darkness was already spreading all over the sky, only a faint orange blue light of fading sun was visible in the west sky. Sam unconsciously leaned against the light pole and stared at the beautiful glow, although his vision was a little bleary. A chilly wind was blowing mildly and he shivered and pulled the collar of his thin jacket high up his neck and zipped up the chain. The evening light was looming over his face, making his pale face a little more colorful. He tried to think of some good memories from his past but thoughts of the most recent awful incident mortified and taunted him more.

_**Half an hour ago-**_

"…**chester, hey Winchester…" Someone was tapping on his cheeks but it wasn't softly and he was yammering constantly. "Hey, nap time's over lazy boy. You know I don't have any time for your beauty sleep…"**

**Sam opened his eyes in mere slits but he couldn't register where was he and why someone was urging him to wake up…so nastily, he blinked his eyes as someone splashed some really chilled water on his face, "C'mon, now wake the hell up, wouldja!" Sam coughed weakly as some droplets of water entered into his nostrils and he brought his hand up to wipe his face, **_**'where am I and why am I lying on the ground',**_** he asked himself before he remembered he was in his work place and the annoyed face that was yammering was his boss 'Butch'. Well at least his name was a perfect match with his b*tching character, Sam thought. Suddenly he jolted back to reality when the rough hand of the crude guy shook his shoulder harshly. Sam startled and weakly stuttered, "Wha'…what happened."**

"**Well, you happened. You managed to trip over your freakishly ostrich legs and broke all the plates..." He sounded like Dean when he mentioned his legs; Sam blinked and pushed himself up slightly assisted by some of the other workers. Butch continued, "…not to mention you fainted like a chick in an old B grade movie…" Sure he sounded like Dean, "… also managed to scare the crap outta the customers and wasted some of their orders too…" **

"**Oh c'mon Butch, don't put all the blame on that poor boy. He didn't do it intentionally…" Lucy, an elderly waitress tried to protest the constant b*tching of Butch's but stopped when Butch grumbled angrily at her and shouted, "Who the hell gave you the permission talk to me like that? Is that klutz some kind of lost son of yours or something that you're taking his side? Do you wanna be fired…?"**

"**Sorry Butch." Lucy lowered her head and looked sadly at Sam.**

"**I couldn't hear what you said…" Butch gave the old lady a death glare.**

"**Sorry Boss!"**

"**I hope you remember that." Butch turned his attention back to Sam who sat passively on the floor, supporting his throbbing head with one hand and gritting his teeth, "but you are fired Winchester. I don't want a wobbly clumsy boy in my shop." He got up and headed towards his office but stopped again, "Oh and, clean up all the messes you've made. I don't want to see a single bit of dirt left here."**

"**Please Sir…" Sam called as he weakly got up onto his feet. His head was spinning vigorously and his nose, teeth, cheeks throbbed in the same way. He felt like he was gonna throw up but he couldn't take the risk after that bitter incident. Bracing on the table to steady himself, he begged, "…please, don't fire me. I need this job, Sir…" he sounded so pathetic, he couldn't believe his own voice, "I need the money, Sir."**

"**Well, I don't wanna waste my money on a little pr*ck like you. Now clean the mess and get the hell outta here." Butch pushed Sam quite hard so that he stumbled backward and his back crashed into one of the tables. **

**Sam didn't say anything after that; he knew it was useless to beg that heartless man. He watched as Butch stalked arrogantly to his office and the other workers went back to their work. Only Lucy and Jason stood by him.**

**Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he tried not to show the pain he was in. After regaining his balance he silently took a rag and a small plastic shovel. He could sense that Lucy and Jason were watching him wearily but he tried to ignore it. They both had become good friends to him and helped him wherever they could. He didn't want them get fired because of him. He didn't want to cause more misery than he already had caused to everyone around him. **

**Sam let himself down to a sitting position and hunched down. He swallowed the bile that was rising in the back of his burning throat and started to clean up the mess. But the intense dizziness was making the matter more difficult than he had thought. **

**Sam was so trapped in his own despair that he startled when someone lightly grabbed his arm. He looked up and saw Lucy crouched beside him; her face full of sorrow and concern for her unfortunate friend.**

**Lucy had been working at this café diner shop for the last six years but she never met anyone like Sam before. When she first saw him when he joined the crew, she immediately felt deep affection for this sweet faced, gentle natured and shy young man. The looks from his sad doe eyes melted her heart like an ice cube in the scolding desert sun. She knew the kid was hiding his feelings deep inside his heart, as he never ever complained about anything. He worked hard, even though Butch never noticed or didn't bother to notice, but everyone on the work crew did. She felt the boy didn't deserve to work in this crappy place; she could see it in his eyes that he was well educated, smart and an extreme gentleman. She didn't know why he was working so hard in this awful place but she could sense that he had some serious reasons. She just wished she could take all the pain and sorrow from him and if it would be possible, she sure as hell wouldn't hesitate for a moment.**

**Lucy took the small plastic shovel and rag from his hand and placed it beside her. Sam looked at her with surprise as she gently patted his arm and spoke, "Leave it Sam; I will clean up the mess."**

**The young man tried to maintain his focus as a shiver passed through his overheated body. Finally he whispered softly, "No, ma'am, you don't have to bother. This is my fault and I have to fix it." **_**'Everything is my fault; I can't do anything without failing.'**_** Sam tried to pick the rag up but Lucy stopped him and placed a hand on his forehead.**

"**You have a fever Sam. You should go to see a doctor. I can clean this mess without a problem. I had cleaned up most of the messes that Butch made in the past."**

"**But…" Sam was gasping.**

"**No but Sam, you have to go to a clinic and get yourself checked out, before you pass out somewhere in the middle of the road. You're very sick, son. Please, listen to me. Wouldn't you listen, if your mother told you that?" Lucy spoke softly as she continuously carded her fingers through his soft chocolate brown hair.**

**Sam's eyes filled with moisture as she unwittingly mentioned his mother. He pressed his lips together hard and kept his eyes shut as a lonely tears fell from them. He turned his head away from Lucy, as he tried not to show his emotions in front of this kind older lady. He finally gave in and stood up but swayed momentarily for the sudden change of height. Muttering a "thanks" to Lucy as she helped him to gain his equilibrium, he started to walk unsteadily to the exit. He didn't even hear as she softly prayed, "Please God, help this poor boy, he is so tormented, so vulnerable. Please help him to find his destiny…his peace." Resolutely the longtime waitress wiped the teardrops from her eyes and went to work cleaning up the mess.**

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Sam stumbled over something but somehow braced himself. He was sure, if he fell now he would not be able to get up again. He grabbed a light pole to steady himself but the spinning sensation wouldn't go away. After taking several deep breaths he slowly opened his eyes…_oh Christ_, everything in front of them seemed to be dancing, very oddly dancing. Sam brought his thumb and forefinger over his eyes and rubbed wearily, hoping the headache and eye pain would ease, but luck didn't seem to cooperate with him. He could feel something trickling down nose and globs of mucus seemed to permanently settle inside his throat.

He didn't know how long he stared at nothing in the middle of the lonely road leaning against that light post. The evening sky had turned darker than before and the neon lights of the lamp post started to shine brighter. The memory of the recent incident was clouding his mind, when the sudden loud honking from a car horn jolted him back to reality. It was too dark to see and he still had to walk the almost half a mile to reach Bobby's house. Honestly, he didn't think he could make his way to his desired destination.

The headache and eye pain had abated slightly, but not as much as he would have liked. Dizziness seemed like it would be a constant companion for the rest of his life. He fumbled in his jacket's pocket and found a pill bottle, 'Great, only two Tylenol left, this is getting better all the time,' Sam swallowed the pills dry and gagged as the crappy bitter test filled his mouth.

Sam waited for the medication to kick in but he knew it wasn't enough as the doctor's words were swimming around in his head…

"_**You have to take it real easy son, no more stress and no hard work. This is already pretty bad as far as I can tell. You have to ingest enough food, which I think you don't and keep yourself hydrated. Here is a prescription for some antibiotics; I start you on a combination of **__**Cephalexin and Biaxin…blah, blah, blah…"**_

Sam chuckled as he remembered those words spilling from Doctor's mouth, _**'yeah, easy to say but not to buy when you don't have sufficient money, and then you have to give your entire earning to your seriously pissed brother…' **_The thought of his brother caused to bring more pressure behind his skull,_** '…a brother who doesn't even want you around him,'**_ Sam grabbed his head with one hand and tugged a fistful of hair as some of the speeches of the previous day rushed towards him like flood.

"_**I don't want anything from you. I don't need you."**_

Sam gritted his teeth and tugged his hair more vigorously.

_**Is that klutz some kind of lost son of yours or something that you're taking his side?**_

Sam's stomach flipped as bile started to rise back in his throat.

_**I got a dead father, a smashed impala and a whiny. little. brother.**_

_**I don't wanna waste my money on a little pr*ck like you.**_

_**You screwed up Sam, you screwed up as hell and now you're trying to be a good son?**_

_**Wouldn't you listen if your mother told you that?**_

"Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP." Sam screamed and pressed both his hands on his violently throbbing temples. He started to rock back and forth and whimpered in pain. But those voiced didn't seem to be abate.

_**You screwed up as hell…**_

_**Is that klutz some kind of lost son of yours…**_

_**This is all your fault you know that, right…**_

_**Waste my money on a little pr*ck like you…**_

_**I gave up all my life to raise you, to protect you…**_

"Oh God, please…" Sam couldn't bare any more pain. His knees buckled and hit the pavement with a loud thud, hard enough to leave bruises. Sam held his chest and started to heave. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably as he started to throw up. Since he had eaten nothing much, there was nothing to expel except bitter bile accompanied by some greenish globs of mucus. Tears were leaking from his eyes and he started to slump forward, but was suddenly prevented from falling by someone grabbing his shoulder and placing a comforting hand on his burning head.

"Dea…"

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Dean was chewing his lower lip anxiously as he drove towards the café diner. He had almost thirty minutes to go and each passing moment seemed like an hour. He tried to call Sam, but every time it went to his voicemail.

Dean looked at his watch, it was only 7:20 p.m. He flipped his mobile pone open and dialed Bobby's home. He knew Bobby wasn't there; he had gone to Minnesota for a poltergeist hunt with Josh and should be back within a day or two. But he called anyway, hoping Sam was there and would pick up the phone but he knew deep down, Sam wasn't there either.

Dean closed the phone as his calls went unanswered and shoved it into his jacket's pocket. Fear and guilt were driving him to insanity as he remembered Sam's sickly pallor, sunken eyes, bruised face "God, when have I become so freaking nuts…" he muttered and stepped on the break when he saw the sign for "Butch's Café & Diner", hastily parking right in front of the entrance.

Dean strode into the diner, his eyes were searching for his tall, lanky and geeky little brother. There were only a few customers in the place and a few waiters and waitress' taking their orders, receiving payments or wandering around doing their work.

The older brother scanned the whole café but didn't find his brother. Where the hell was the kid, he was supposed to be here right now. He moved forward and grabbed a young waiter's shoulder lightly, "Excuse me."

The young man, who was around his age, turned towards him, an empty tray was in his hand, "Yes, how can I help you?"

"Ah, actually 'm looking for my brother. His name's Sam Winchester. He is supposed to work here." Dean hesitated, not sure he was in right place.

"Oh Winchester," the young man seemed to recognize the name, "well, he's not here."

"What? Not here, why? His shift isn't finished yet I think." Dean asked as this heart rate started to rise again.

"Ahh, he got fired."

"Fired? Why?"

"Well, he umm…" his voice cut off as a feminine voice interrupted him.

"Frank, who is he?" Dean looked at the owner of the voice.

"Hey Lucy, this is Sam's brother and he is looking for him. Can you fill him up? I gotta go or Butch will rip my head off." Frank disappeared in a great hurry.

Dean looked at Lucy and asked, "I heard that Sam got fired. What happened?"

Lucy looked at him with sad eyes, "Well, that poor boy is your brother? He had a very rough time today over here. Beside he didn't seem alright to me for the last two or three days."

Dean stared at her in shock, "What happened to him?"

"Your brother had been working real hard here, overtime and everything for some really low extra income. But today he got real sick and passed out with a full tray of ordered food…" Dean's mouth fell open as he heard the news, but stayed quiet as Lucy continued, "…Butch _that bastard_ cursed him badly and fired him from his job." Lucy's face crunched in disgust as she mentioned Butch, "He shoved him hard and didn't even bother to give him this week's salary."

Dean's knuckles turned white as he clenched them hardly. His anger bubbled like a hot boiler and all he wanted was to punch something…_or someone_. How dare that bastard put his hands on his brother? He asked with gritted teeth, "Where is your boss?"

**TBC**

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**Hi, this is "SAM"- I'm so sick and out of my medication. Your reviews work like medicine, so please (puppy dog eyes), drop me a little review. It wouldn't hurt much if you write a single line for 'ME'---so please, review. It will make me feel better. Love You All.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N :- Thanks to Vonnie for her awesome Beta Work. She is just great.**

**Thank you so much who reviewed my story positively. Your kind words always give me strength.**

**Warning:- Ahh…there are some colorful cuss words…you know Dean's a** kicking mouth. Soooo…**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Dean strode toward the office Butch was currently inhabited. Not bothering to knock, he kicked the light wooden door in and it opened with a loud bang. Dean's eyes were searching for his bull's eye and then locked at his target.

"Are you that b*tch boy I'm looking for?" Dean asked venomously.

The man, who was sitting on a revolving chair with his back to the door, suddenly spun to see where the mischievous voice was coming from. He flipped his phone shut and threw it on the table. Dean arched his eyebrows to take a good look of that _man,_ who dared to put his filthy hands on his baby brother. The man standing in front of him was no older than forty, but his gruff and rough face made him look even bitchier and much older than he really was. Dean's eyes were darting from his head to his toes, measuring how to beat the crap out of the guy until he was begging for mercy.

"Excuse me?" That man narrowed his dull ash colored eyes and got up onto his feet. That man was no taller than 5'8" or so, but was extremely bulky. His face was blunt and expressionless and with his damn snub nose accompanied by a short neck, he looked very much like _a pig_, Dean thought. He chuckled as the weird thought crossed his mind but quiet laughter vanished from his lips as soon as he remembered Lucy's words, **'**_**that bastard**__**cursed him…**__**shoved him hard'**_ and his rage was boiling up again.

"No, I won't excuse you…you son of a b*tch." Dean snarled as he stepped forward and grabbed the man by the jacket collar.

"Hey, hey, hey mister, get of me. Get OFF me…" The man was so shocked by the sudden attack by this young man, who was a total stranger to him. He just couldn't understand why someone was cursing him and was ready to beat him up like this. He stuttered, "…who are you and why are you attacking me like that?"

"Because…" Dean cocked his head slightly to and fro, gritting his teeth like a hungry wolf, "…you hit my brother and kicked him out from this craphole." Dean's fists tightened around the man's collar and he shook him hard.

Butch seemed to think about, whom he threw out that day, because it was almost a habit to fire some of his crew almost every day for the tiniest mistakes. Suddenly he remembered this day's incident and a mischievous smile suddenly ghosted over his broad lips.

Dean looked kinda astonished, "What are you smiling for a*shat?"

"Well, well, so that klutz was your brotherrrr…ahh" his voice trailed as Dean slammed his head hard against the wall and pressed his elbow over his throat pretty tightly.

"Don't ever dare to talk about him that like that again. Am...I...Clear?" Dean hissed as his nostrils flared in uncontrollable wrath.

Butch was seeing nothing but stars in front of his eyes as his thick head was banged so hard against the wall, it cracked. A goose egg was already started to form.

"Okkay…oo...kay…please…lemme go." Butch coughed weakly as the pressure from Dean's hand was increasing gradually. He clawed at the hand and tried to free himself, but Dean's hold was like an iron grip that wouldn't loosen easily. Butch was gasping and his eyeballs looked huge like they would fall out of their sockets any time now.

"Let you go? I'm not done with you yet, you…you piece of sh*t." Dean grabbed his collar again and spun him from the wall. "You touched my brother…" Dean wringed his right hand to his back as Butch tried to defend himself but failing miserably was kicked hard in his ankle by the younger man,"…I will teach you a good lesson on how not to fire a good worker from this shop and especially not, when he is Dean Winchester's brother."

Butch's knees buckled and he cried in pain, "Ooww, sorry…ah...ah…I'm sorry…I…he ruined my food…ahh…" He yelped as Dean's fist landed across his face.

"Ruined your food? You're pathetic…" Dean's green eyes flashed as his temper was boiling over into rage. He clenched his fist and breathed hot, "Food is more important than a human to you, right? Okay then, I will let you know how not to ruin food."

Butch's eyes went wide as he heard the clear threat from the obviously dangerous young man, who was now grabbing him like a chicken in a butcher's hand. He couldn't fathom what the crazy kid was gonna do to him. But his thought didn't last long as Dean waved at someone and instructed, "Hey Lady, pass me a tray full of food, will ya?"

Lucy was stunned to see the whole drama happening in front of her. The young man had nerves, she had to admit. Not just her, almost everyone at the café diner shop, including the few customers was watching the action scene also and truth to be said, they all were enjoying the show. Honestly, no one was impressed with Butch's sh*tty behavior, all of the crew even some customers had been extremely pissed with him. He always fired his worker for absolutely no reason or very minor ones. He was even more fretful with his customers when they complained about crappy food or delayed order. But no one had dared to mess with him because of his heavy bulky figure and ready to blow temper. That was until now, when finally some hard headed and take-no-crap type person called Dean Winchester beat the crap out of the dumba*s, no one felt regret over it..

Dean raised his eyebrows in annoyance, when everyone looked flabbergasted and his demand went unanswered, "Oh come on, you look like I'm doing some street show," he grumbled under his breath and raised his voice, "C'mon, have you all gone deaf or something?" Dean pressed his foot hard into Butch's ankle as he started fidgeting, "pass me a food tray, wouldja!"

Lucy startled as Dean's voice boomed in her ears and nodded hurriedly. She practically ran into the kitchen squabbled whatever food she had found in that short time and handed it to Dean.

Dean took the food tray in his left hand and looked at his captive, "Soo, you don't wanna ruin your food, right?" Butch threw a sideways glance at Dean, who wore a cocky smile, "but I'm gonna do it anyway and you have to clean up all the mess…" Dean casually dumped the entire food on the floor, which really wasn't very clean and loosened his hold on Butch's hand a little and crouched down beside him, "Well, start wolfing."

"Wh…what?" Butch was looking as damn shocked as he couldn't believe what's he hearing.

"You heard me." Dean motioned his index finger towards the scattered food that messed up floor and sniffed, twitching his lips, "As you don' wanna waste any food; you have to chow it down."

Butch's face was a picture to be seen right then; he swallowed nervously a couple of times and tried to back away from this messy situation, but Dean's stone firm voice and death look wouldn't let him. He gagged a little as he picked a piece of pizza from the floor and took a tiny bite.

Dean groaned as he saw the slow motion of Butch's action, "Aww come on, I don't have time for your baby steps." He grabbed Butch's hand that was holding the pizza and forcefully shoved it into his mouth. "Okay, that's better."

Butch felt extremely nauseated as Dean pushed the entire dirty pizza slice into his mouth and clamped his hand over it. His pupils widened and a chocked whimper escaped from back of his throat. He could hear that everyone around him was giggling and murmuring about his awkward situation.

After five minutes that seemed like forever to Butch, the chewing was over and he was panting heavily. Man, this boy was one hell of stubborn a*sed, he shouldn't have messed with his brother. Hell, he would never mess with anyone again, because anyone could have a dangerous brother like him.

Dean whipped Butch's head and got up onto his feet. He hauled his captive up by grabbing his back collar and fished his hand into his jacket's pocket. He pulled a wallet out, which was padded with dollars and took almost all of the money. Butch stuttered, "Wh…at are you…you doing." He was actually mewling, not sure he was ready to get an answer.

Dean held his hand, which was full with money, in front of Butch's eyes and smiled wickedly, "Well, since you've forgotten to give my brother this week's pay, I think I should take his earnings from you…and the rest I took for the lesson I taught you, it's my tuition fee ya know!" He chuckled as he saw the dumbfounded look on the pudgy man and put all money into his pocket. "I know you will remember what I taught you, am I right?"

"For a lifetime." Butch whispered.

Dean smirked and readjusted his jacket's collar, "Better then. Now clean up the rest o the mess with your hand or mouth whatever you wish and I will see you later." Dean walked arrogantly towards the exit door between the crowd of people. He could hear the cheering noises and sounds of laughter that were coming from the diner for quite same time. He smiled in utmost satisfaction but it didn't last long when he remembered his kid brother._** 'Oh God, Sammy must be totally alone now and sick too. I gotta go to him fast.'**_ He wrenched open the driver side door of his borrowed car and started it, pressing hard on the accelerator. As the old car got his life back and rumbled, Dean drove frantically and murmured unconsciously…

"I am coming Sammy, I am coming."

* * *

Sam leaned into the comforting hand touching his forehead and kept his eyes shut. He had hoped that the person would be Dean, but he could sense even with closed eyes that he wasn't his brother. Although his heaving had abated, he was still feeling extremely shaky and uncoordinated. The intense pain inside his skull was drumming like a constant buzzer. He was gasping, trying to pull more air inside his lungs, but the over-production of mucus wouldn't let him get enough air. He coughed weakly and gagged, someone was rubbing his back soothingly. He kept his mouth agape to pull as much air as he could and unconsciously kept messaging his aching chest. His head was still spinning but not as bad as before.

After about ten or fifteen minutes Sam was finally able to slightly open his eyes and see, who was holding him. "Hey, hey Sam, you okay buddy?" A familiar face was swimming in front of his hazy focus line, 'oh that's Jason.' He took a deep breathe and whispered, "yeah, 'm okay."

"You sure?" Jason didn't look quite convinced.

Sam rubbed his free hand over his sweaty face and tried to smile, but it failed miserably, "I will be. What are you…doing…here anyway?" Sam asked as he wheezed.

Jason looked at Sam curiously but continued, "I ahh, I just got out after Butch…you know…threw you out. You weren't looking so good to me…" Sam looked at his friend and his heart ached, _**'even a person, I don't know very well cares about me, but who I want…he doesn't.'**_ Sam swallowed convulsively as the tightness of his throat started to grow. He wasn't even listening to Jason properly as he continued, '…I saw that you were throwing up and man, what's wrong with you? First you passed out and now you can't even stand up? Do you want me to call your brother…?"

"NO…" Jason flinched as Sam almost barked to his offer. Sam was panting hard, "No, please Jason. I…I don't want to…I can go by myself. Please, I am okay."

Jason raised his eyebrows incredulously, "Weeell, if you say so, but man, you should get check out by a doctor. I think you have a fever and I really don't like how your breathing sounds."

"Don't need doctor. Don't need anyone. Everyone hates me; everyone around me always gets in trouble. I'm nothing but a damned failure." Sam was babbling incoherently. The pain and fever were making him thinking disheartened.

Jason looked stunned, not knowing what he should say, "Sam, calm down buddy. Please, look man, I understand. Take a deep breathe…"

Jason's voice was cut off by Sam's sudden interruption, "No you don't understand. No one understands." Sam was practically yelling his now, "Every…everyone thinks that I'm a freak Jason, I'm a useless burden." He was almost sobbing, "You know what, even…even my brother and my own brother thinks that my Dad's death was my fault, he hit me…" Jason looked sad, he thought that he didn't deserve to hear Sam's confession, but he couldn't stop him, not right now when he blurted out all his hidden emotion to an almost unknown person, "…over and over, my dad also told me that everything…every single damn thing was my fault although. And even Butch told me that 'm a useless klutz…"

"Sam…" Jason was rubbing his hand on Sam's back soothingly.

"What should I do? I can't make the pain go away, I can't make anyone happy…I can't. Tell me what do I have to do to make them understand that I'm not as useless as they think? What should I…" Sam was wheezing breathlessly.

"Easy Sam, where is your inhaler dude?" When Sam didn't answer Jason fished his hand into Sam's left jacket's pocket and pulled out an Albuterol inhaler. He held it to Sam's mouth and waited until his lips closed around it. Watching as the young man started to inhale he pushed the inhaler once and observed him for a moment before repeating the action. He had seen Sam take this inhaler before during the work and sometimes, when the cylinder got emptied, he had gone and bought another one for his young friend. Now he waited as he rubbed circles lightly behind Sam's back.

"Easy, easy Sam. You're gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be alright. Nothing's your fault, okay buddy?" Jason murmured.

"Dean?" Sam blinked drowsily at Jason.

"Sam, you know what you have to do to prove yourself buddy! You know how to fix things; you can reverse everything you think you did wrong. Well, almost everything. So, prove yourself Sam, prove to your brother that you are not a burden."

"Am not!" Sam whispered.

"Yes, you're not Sam. You're strong and you know that too."

"Yeah, I know what I have to do." Sam told himself more than he told Jason.

"Yes, now c'mon, get your bottom up from here…" He snaked his left arm around Sam's waist and took his friends arm around his neck and hauled him on his feet, "let's getch'a back to your house."

"I know what I have to do. I know how to make things right. I have to…I have to…" Sam kept murmuring as he was being dragged by his friend towards Bobby's junkyard. Jason didn't even realize what a dangerous button he had pushed in his stubborn friend.

* * *

Dean frantically slammed the break of the car as he reached his current address. He left the car without parking it in proper place and ran towards the house. His heart was beating furiously as he wondered what he would see upon entering in the house. Concern and fear were driving him high as he strode in the living room, eyes searching for his brother but not finding him. "Sammy? Sam, where are you?" he yelled but his question went unanswered. "God, where is the kid?" Dean searched in the kitchen as well as bathroom but there was no sign of his brother. He frantically ran towards upstairs but suddenly halted when he heard a weak coughing coming from the library.

'**Oh thank God,'** he released a breath that he didn't know he was holding. As the tension eased a hint of vex was creeping through his vein, "The kid must be sulking again, doesn't even bother to answer me when I'm…" he muttered as he stalked to the library, where he found Sam sitting on the couch surrounded by a large pile of different books. Some of them were kept face down, some scattered over table and couch and one was held by Sam, braced on his knees. Sam's nose was buried into the book as his long brown hair almost covered half his face.

"Answer me when 'm calling my lungs out."

Sam startled as he heard his brother's peevish voice and looked at him through his chocolate fringe. Dean almost sucked in a short gasp when he saw Sam's face. His usual sun-kissed golden skin was virtually morphed into a shade of gray. His bright expressive blue green eyes were sunken into its socket, his face was gaunt but cheeks were showing a rosy hue, as well as his nose was of the same color in his otherwise too pale feature. Sam's long hands were literally boney as the bluish veins showed their presence through his skin layers. His favorite white shirt with blue stripes was hanging on his boney frame and jeans didn't look any better._** 'Since when has he become so damned skinny and how did I not notice that?'**_ Dean stepped forward a couple of inch towards his brother and asked, "Sam, you okay?"

Sam stared at him for a couple of seconds, his eyes expressionless and dull, before he averted them again. He muttered something too softly for Dean to register.

"Sammy?"

Sam flinched as he heard his childhood name after such a long span of time, but remained stoic. He looked at his book again and flipped a page, "Why you bother?"

"What?" Dean looked confounded as he heard his little brother asking a question rather than provide answer.

"You heard me." Came a straight response.

"Why are you talking like this Sammy…?" Dean's voice cut off as Sam's deep but congested voice interrupted him, "It's Sam."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to speak but again Sam's voice made him halt in mid way.

"Don't. Dean, don't try to patronize me. Not now, not ever." He slammed his book shut and threw it on the table. "I'm sick of your attitude Dean, I'm tired. So please, don't act like you are concerned for me, like you're worried about me. You don't have to do this anymore."

Dean clenched his fists and scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Sam's erratic behavior was making him quite angry _**'Control yourself Dean, you almost screwed up too many times,'**_ but he knew somehow he did deserve this. He had to control his temper so he could take care of his brother and get over it.

"Look man…" again his was cut off by his brother_**, 'man this is getting habituated.'**_

"No Dean. I don't wanna look at anything. I know what I did and I am feeling guilty as hell. How many time I have to prove it to you **DEAN**…" Sam was screaming, the over-exertion was sending a pain spike into his skull but he didn't care, "…I know what you think about Dad's death; I know you believe that I'm the one who is responsible for this…"

"Sam, stop it." Dean growled with a sharp intake of breathe. His nostrils were flaring as he heard his brother's tirade continued.

"Why…?" Sam bobbed his head slowly up and down with utter arrogance and gritted his teeth, "Is that an order? The Great John Winchester's Good Little Soldiers now Commander Dean Winchester's Order to his subordinate." Sam smirked humorless which was full of wrath and disgust. He snorted, "Well Sir, as I'm the one disappointment among Winchester majesties, I don't think I could obey your orders further."

Dean tried to control himself desperately as he heard his brother's hate words spewing from his mouth like a hot geyser. He was counting down hundred to one to calm himself down. He didn't want to hit his brother's smart mouth but this was getting worse. He looked at Sam venomously as he hissed, "Sam, if I hear any more word from your goddamned mouth, I'm gonna…"

"What? Hit me?" Sam asked with a mischievous grin that could send a guy to his extreme rage point and stretched his hand, "Then go. Hit me; give it your best shot. What are you waiting for Dean? Bring it on."

"Ssaammm…"

"Yes, that's what you always do when you hear the truth that you don' wanna believe. You just care about yourself, your damn car and your own stupid grief. So **SCREW** you. Just follow the damn orders your mighty…damned...John...Winchester dumped on you."

Sam didn't realize that a solid fist was blowing straight across his face and landed on his right cheek with a solid square cut. Sam stumbled backward and landed on his bottom on the hand rest of the couch. He was seeing black spots dancing in front of his eyes and the whole room was shifting in a lazy spin. He held his cheek with one hand as an excruciating pain was creeping from his jaw to head. He had been expecting a quick blow from his brother but not this hard. Man, this hurt so much. He shook his head to clear his vision but suddenly was yanked upward by his brother's iron grip hold.

"You know Sam…" Dean was furious. He had had enough. He came here for his brother and he was pushing him…pushing him hard. How dare he bring his dad into this hateful argument? How dare he? What he tried was helping his brother, he even fought that bastard Butch for him…he knew he had screwed up big time but Sam…he had just crossed the line. His fists were tightly on Sam's shirt collar as he yanked his brother from his sitting position. He knew he shouldn't have punched Sam that hard, but Sam's venomous words worked like a lighter in an open gas chamber. His nostrils were flaring as he gritted his teeth and snarled, "…Screw you. This is what you are…a whiny…pathetic…b*tch. You're nothing but walking trouble, even where your work…oh sorry…you worked, you got your a** kicked for your lousiness…" He shook his brother hard, "…and now you're p*ssed and put the blame on me, on **DAD**! I made everything clear for you, I gave my life for you, dad gave up his entire life for you…and now this!" Dean could feel heat radiating from his brother's body but he was so wrapped into his own wrath, he chose to ignore it. "You know what, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve anything you **BASTRAD**." Dean shouted and shoved Sam backward. Sam's feet were entangled with each other and he fell to the ground in a heap, on the way down his right hand colliding hard with the table.

Dean tried to step forward but stopped, as a gruff anger filled voice shouted behind him, **"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO YOU DAMN IDGIT?"**

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**So, what do you think about this one??? Things are really getting weird. Sooooo…. Need next chapter soon!!!! Then drop me a line or word and I will give you next blast. Love you all.**


	4. Chapter 4

**BETA: Vonnie, you're awesome.**

**WARNING: As usual, cussing and swearing. I know, you guys love it. LOL**

**A/N: I wanna thank who reviewed my story and special thanks to some regular reviewers. Their encouraging words gave me the energy to write faster. You all rock.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Dean startled and turned as the familiar rough gruff, anger filled voice of Bobby Singer boomed like thunder through the room. Bobby was standing at the door threshold and was fuming with anger. He fisted his palms into a tight ball, like he was going to throw them straight into Dean's face. His mustache was bloating as he was breathing hot on it. His rage filled eyes darted towards Sam who was half sitting, half lying on the floor hanging his head low. Bobby noticed that the boy was panting hard, _**'is he wheezing?'**_ and averted his gaze from Dean, who was standing in front of him in beat-the-crap-out-of-you mood.

"Why did you hit your brother like that, you idiot?" Bobby's voice boomed in Dean's ears and he merely grimaced.

"Ask him." Dean was in no mood to give up_**. 'After all this is not my fault, the little sh*t started the mess.'**_He thought.

Bobby strode toward the older Winchester in an angry pace and grabbed his jackets collar, "NO, 'm asking you. So, answer me. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU HIT SAM FOR?"

Now Dean had had enough. Everyone was against him when it came to Sam. He brushed Bobby's hand off harshly as his nostrils flared, "I don' give a rat's a** about that. The brat got what he deserved."

"Deeaann…" Bobby almost lifted his fisted hand to knock the stubborn pig headed Winchester's head hard, but he couldn't. John wasn't gone very long yet and he didn't want to hurt one of his boys. He easily could, because he felt it would be the right thing to do, but now was most certainly not the right time for it. If he would do it right then, it wouldn't turn out well for him, or for Sam. Bobby gritted his teeth and calmed himself down, "I was just gone for two days, I left you boys to take care of each other; but you two…" Bobby cocked his head slowly left to right and continued, "…I thought I can trust you to take care of Sam, Dean! But, what you did tonight, I wouldn't have imagined this in my wildest dreams."

"He bad mouthed me Bobby. He…" Dean looked at his brother full hatred, as Sam weakly tried to push himself up from his slouched position. Head still hung low. He grabbed on to the table tightly until his knuckles turned white and attempted to lever himself up.

"You stupid…" Bobby clenched and unclenched his fists furiously as if he wanted to twist Dean's neck rather than his Jacket's collar. After taking a few deep breathes, Bobby released his hold from Dean and with two large steps reached Sam.

Sam was listening to the heated conversation between his brother and uncle, but didn't have the strength to interrupt. He was feeling extremely drawn and after this sudden outburst, he felt all blood draining from his head. He was feeling light headed as the eye pain accompanied by a headache was forming slowly but surely inside his skull again. He tried to heave himself up, as he didn't want them to get concerned about how weak and ill he felt. And after this awful situation, he didn't want to face his brother anymore, or even Bobby. He was way too embarrassed as Bobby had to be witness of their bitter argument and fight. He kept his eyes shut and placed his other hand on the floor.

Sam flinched as he felt Bobby's comforting hand on his shoulder. He blinked a couple of times to clear his teary vision and looked at him. Bobby's heart got heavy as Sam's teary sad doe eyes were looking at him, **'God, he looks like five years old again, he got this - big brother hurt me bad…so comfort me look,'** Bobby tightened his hands around Sam's shoulder and flinched as he felt how intense heat was radiating from the younger boy's body. _**'No wonder the boy is so pale'**_ Bobby thought and said, "C'mon Sam, let's getcha to your room."

Sam virtually shied away from Bobby's touch and tried to curl into himself. His fever muddled brain didn't seem to think straight and all he could recall were his brother's hurtful words and beatings. He was shaking, both of cold and rage, and his chest was rising and falling fast with each ragged breath.

"No…No…I don't ne…need anybody…leave me…ahh…oh…l'me…alone." Sam stuttered between his wheezing.

"Sam,…boy…" Bobby tried to calm the clearly disoriented youth, as he started to almost hyperventilate.

"No…I…I can go…myself…please da…" Sam looked at him in confusion but suddenly recognized his surrounding environment, "…Bob…Bobby!"

Bobby didn't push his younger nephew, because he knew if he pushed further, the young hunter would do something seriously wrong. He knew John's boys by blood and bone, if they set their mind on something, they wouldn't let it go until death. He released his grip from Sam and watched as Sam wobbled on his feet. He clumsily limped towards the exit and headed towards Bobby's small storage room.

Bobby's eyes widened in astonishment, as he watched the younger kid heading towards his storage room, _**'Shouldn't he go upstairs to their own room?'**_ Suddenly anger crept through his veins and he looked at Dean in bewilderment.

Dean snickered and looked away; he knew what was coming now. But he wasn't in the mood to listen Bobby's words. Though he was feeling a little guilty about what happened a few minutes ago. He thought he shouldn't have said those things to Sam or hurt him, but…damn…his temper always got in his way.

After Sam was out of the line of his vision, Bobby turned towards Dean, who looked like he was getting ready to prepare himself for next phase. Bobby threw him a quizzical look and adjusted his ball cap.

"Wanna tell me something boy?"

"Not really."

"Dean…" Bobby was beyond p*ssed. He shoved his hand into his jacket's pocket before he slapped it right in the center of Dean's mouth. Then he walked towards the window and silently stared out of it for couple of minutes. It's was raining, no one had noticed when it started. The heavy shower was splashing furiously against the closed glass window. Dark cloud obscured the sky and a partially red sky was the only part left visible behind the dark shadows.

Bobby turned to Dean again, who was still standing in the same position and resumed his unfinished conversation, "…what happened?"

"You heard everything." Came Dean's small and gruff response.

"Not everything." Bobby moved some books from the table and sat on the couch. "Nobody starts fighting just like that, especially not you boys. There's something behind this mess. Now cut the crap and start spilling."

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Sam entered in the small room, which was supposed to be Bobby's store room at one time and never was used much before they arrived. Sam had taken up permanent residence in the small room after their father's death. Dean didn't want to be near him and grimaced at the thought that he would have to share this room with his pushing-him-to-the-limit little brother and Sam could sense it. So he decided, he should separate from his brother and settle in the crappy room. Bobby tried to send him back in their original room and after Sam rejected his offer, Bobby insisted he stay in his room. He got the same reaction, only this time Sam maintain with such heartbreaking melancholy that he needed some time alone, Bobby had to let the stubborn boy go after all. But he had thought things would be normal again after the boy would have an intimate talk. Yet he had been absolutely wrong, thing weren't getting back to normal, they were spiraling out of control.

The room was way too small for any person especially someone tall like him. The walls were dirty and the corners had been blackened by excessive presence of soot. There was only one window from where the back side of junkyard could be seen. Some papers and junks were scattered haphazardly almost everywhere and in the corner, there was a small cot with a worn out pillow.

Sam sat heavily on the cot and held his head in his palms. He was feeling shaky, he didn't know how long he hadn't eaten any food and taken any water. The thought of food made him nauseated but an empty stomach also left him to feeling light headed. He took some long breathes, 'in…out…in…out…' hoping, it would help to reduce the dizziness. Suddenly he recalled the recent fight with Dean and he totally broke down in frustration. Hot tears spilled from his already puffy eyes and suddenly he screamed, "What am I supposed to do?"

'_**This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!'**_

His father's anger filled voice echoed in his ears, as he pressed his both hands over them hard, "NOO."

'_**It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.'**_

"Please…Nooo…stop it…" Sam screamed as bloody Mary's ghostly voice filled into the small room, "I'm hallucinating…" He was gasping his lungs out.

_**Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning… How could you leave her alone to die?'**_

"Again…again…again…somebody stop them…help me…" Sam writhed on the cot frantically, as he tried desperately to make the sound go away.

'_**I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!'**_

Tears broke again furiously, as beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He started rocking to and fro, as the taunting voices were haunting him to death.

"Dad, please…Daaadd…"

'_**If you walk out that door…stay gone…'**_

Sam suddenly stopped crying and sat straight. He incoherently measured the entire room, like he was searching something. He couldn't think straight…he wouldn't think straight. He got up and headed where his duffel lay. He searched through his bag and pulled out his dad's journal. Hastily he flipped open it and stopped at a certain page. He quickly read something on it and closed the book with a loud slap. "I have to do it, I have to make things normal…Dean won't hate me anymore after that…he won't blame me for anything anymore…I can do it…" Sam was murmuring unconsciously as he pulled a small wooden box from a drawer and stuffed it into his duffel.

Sam darted from corner to corner to find other things and by this time he was getting agitated. "Damn it…where are those things?" He swore loudly and scrambled, when everything got in his way. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead before they were dripping into his eyes, but still, his vision remained pretty hazy. After scattering almost half of the drawer's contents onto the floor and swearing 'damn it' a dozen times, Sam finally found what he had been searching for.

Without warning he doubled over when a bout of coughing attacked him in full force_**. 'Oh God, not again'**_ Sam thought and clamped one hand over his mouth_**. 'I must have inhaled some dusts…'**_ Sam fumbled through his jacket but found nothing. Suddenly he realized he didn't even wear the jacket where the albuterol inhaler was kept _and _he left his only jacket in the library room, which his big brother and Bobby currently inhabited. He could feel his nose becoming heavily congested by the overproducing mucus and it hurt to breathe. Sam grimaced in pain and massaged his chest quite tightly. All he wanted right then was to lie down and die. His throat felt sore and his ears were ringing like a constant bell.

After few minutes, the coughing seemed to abate and he inhaled some air from his mouth since his nostrils were still congested. He weakly shoved his belongings into his duffel and looked out the window. It was raining heavily as the raindrops were splattering over the glass window like bullets. "Great, the last thing I wanted" Sam muttered bitterly and flinched as a loud roar of thunder sounded nearby.

"One…two…three...four…" Sam started counting as he tried to keep himself calm… _**'No time for this freaking thunder fear…'**_ Sam startled as a huge gust of wind roared and whipped all the windows and doors in the house… _**'I have to go, can't let them down now. I have to go.'**_

Determined, Sam got up from the floor and put his duffel over his shoulder. Then he took a paper and a pen and quickly wrote something on it. He put a paper weight on it and looked sadly at the closed door, "I am sorry Dean! I am sorry for everything I have done to you, said to you. But, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. I will make everything better. Don't worry…" Sam wiped some wayward tears away, using his shirt sleeve and opened the window, climbing out to get away. He stood in the heavy rainstorm for a while then disappeared into the darkness.

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"You son of a…" Bobby was pacing like an angry caged tiger, after hearing Dean's confession about what had happened in the diner and his house. He couldn't believe what Dean had done to his own brother. Now Bobby was sure that Dean had lost his entire mind after the frigging accident. Bobby stopped and turned to Dean, who was standing at that exact point from where he shoved Sam. "I would have expected that from your father, but I didn't expect that from you Dean." Bobby told him in a irate tone.

"What?" Dean looked confused, "What do you mean Bobby? I did it for Sam for crying out loud, damn it."

"Watch your tone, when you're talking to me, you hear me boy…" Bobby strode toward him and barked, "…and you think what you did, was good?"

"I…ah..."

"Shuddup and let me finish…" Bobby went to the couch and placed a hand on its headrest, "…You think taking revenge on the freaky bastard was more important than taking care of your brother? Huh Dean? Looks like all you want is fighting, swearing and again fighting with your own blood. I know, you did good to teach a lesson to Butch, but you should have really thought about your brother first when you heard he was so damn sick and even passed out during work. As long I know you boys, you just don't pass out for some really minor sickness."

As Bobby's words registered into Dean's confused mind he shuddered, **'Oh God.'**

Bobby eyed him quizzically and continued, "I just can't imagine that you were more intend on taking revenge and making yourself a hero, rather than noticing how ill your brother is. That boy, I knew from the start that he wasn't well after the accident, he worked bone hard to make everything alright. He worked almost all day you know that. He worked with me in the garage first since the stubborn bastard didn't want to be a burden on ME. Stupid Boy. Then he worked at the diner from noon to night, Dean, so you didn't have to bother, you didn't have to the pressure of working for your livelihood, Boy!" Bobby punched the couch and continued, "I told him so many times not to, but that boy didn't listen to a single word. He didn't wanna be a burden, which he never was but you let him believe that he was to you, damn."

"Bobby!" Dean's voice was now shaking.

"He watched your back closely, he kept watching out for you, when it was your job." Bobby felt bad for talking to Dean like this, but he knew he had to make Dean aware of his mistake, "You managed to did such a great job watching out for him that you ended up beating him and then blaming him for your papa's death. Damn it boy. You shouldn't've done that."

Dean ran a nervous hand over his cropped hair as Bobby's word sank in. "Jesus, what have I done Bobby, what have I done?" He sat heavily down on the couch and held his head in his palms. His mind was so screwed up with guilt and remorse. He unmindfully looked at the right side of the couch where Sam's jacket was lying and grabbed it, "Bobby, I'm so sorry. I don't…" suddenly something fell with a *clink* from the jacket's pocket onto the ground, "…what the hell is that?"

Bobby spun around after hearing the noise and Dean's swearing and saw Dean picked something up from the ground. He quickly took the object and gasped, "Oh my God, Sam?"

"What? What is it Bobby?" Dean looked at him in utter shock, he knew the item was some kind of medication and it falling from Sam's jacket wasn't a good news.

"It's albuterol Dean." Bobby looked at the inhaler intently and spoke, "This medication is for chronic breathing problem or asthma."

Dean sucked a breath in horror, "WHAT? Sammy has Asthma?"

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**TBC**

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**Well, well…well!! So, Sammy ran away. I'm evil, I know that…hahaha. But at least I let you know what Sammy's illness is. But…that's not his original illness; it's just a side effect of something else. And…What's Sam gonna do now????? Give me a line for review, I will let you know. I've noticed many readers had put me in favorite author list, alert, and favorite story, but they never reviewed. Please, if you like my story, then stop for a moment and drop a single line. It will help me to write better if I know what you guys want. So, please, let me know what you think. Lots of love.**


	5. Chapter 5

**BETA: - Vonnie…you are love.**

**WARNING: - Don't trust Dean's foul mouth. **

**A/N: - Thank you, Thank you and Thank you to all who stopped for a moment and dropped me such awesome reviews. Those words totally made my day. Don't leave me, please, I need you.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Dean stood up nervously as Bobby announced Sam had some sort of breathing problem or maybe asthma. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'No no no, that can't be true. Sammy can't have freaking asthma.' He looked at Bobby with fear showing in his eyes, "Bobby, Sammy can't have a breathing problem, I have never heard any complaint that he was having problems breathing," Dean took the inhaler from Bobby's hand and read carefully, "Albuterol, medication for chronic breathing disorder…" Dean furrowed his brows with utter ambiguity, "Sammy might have migraine or headaches, but…Bobby, I don't understand…"

Bobby was quite shocked too finding out the news that their youngest family member had some serious illness and something inside him was telling him continuously that it was already too late to reverse this situation. He brushed his palm wearily over his face and grabbed his bearded chin, "I don't understand Dean! You sure you didn't miss anything?"

"The hell I do, Bobby." Dean was getting frustrated now. He was pacing in front of the couch and carding his fingers through his short hair, "I've been taking care of this boy since…" Dean stopped for a moment_**, 'since Mom died on the fire,'**_… "Since before he had his first tooth. I know every single problem he has, every damn thing, before he even knew he was coming down with something, I knew it. Then, how could I not see that he has asthma?" Dean's green eyes were somewhat watery, "Bobby…"

Bobby didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort the clearly upset young man, hell he was upset too. He knew asthma or chronic breathing problem was not a matter to mess with. But Sam hid this from them, Bobby gritted his teeth indignantly,_** 'How dare the boy hid this kind of serious matter from them!' **_Bobby sat down heavily on the couch, "Damn, Winchesters are the most pigheaded people I have ever met." He grumbled annoyed under his breathe.

"What?" Dean turned to him with astonishment written all over his face.

"What? What do mean by **WHAT**?" Bobby was suddenly feeling very angry, "First you beat up the boy and then when we find out he has some serious illness you don't even have a clue about it? I thought **HE** was your responsibility."

"Bobby, please. How many times do I have to remind you that I'm freak'n sorry?" Dean watched as Bobby was fumbling in Sam's jacket as he hastily went to the window. He was looking outside with a clearly disturbed mind_**, 'Sammy shouldn't have hidden this from me.'**_ He thought as blazing white lightning, followed by an ear-deafening boom of thunder crashed nearby the house, _**'He would've told you if you were listened to him for a while you jerk…'**_ Dean found himself berating himself in his mind, _**'…every time you went near him, mostly to grab his money, you started an argument about nothing and ended up with hurting him either physically or mentally.'**_ Dean closed his eyes momentarily, pressing his lips together hard to hide his emotions, "Bobby, I know what I have done to him was wrong." Bobby could hear that the older boy was almost on the verge of crying, "I was so wrapped in my own misery, my own pain after Dad…" Dean swallowed a lump in his throat and sniffed, "…after Dad left me here with such…such a great responsibility, you can't even imagine it." He stopped for a moment, hoping to hear Bobby comment but nothing came. He threw a sideways glance to see that Bobby had a paper on his hand and read it with a grim face. It looked like he wasn't even listening to him properly. He knitted his eyebrows together, _**'what the hell's he reading so carefully…'**_ and reached for him step by step, "Bobby?"

The older man looked at him with great anxiety then returned his focus again to the paper he was holding. Dean could understand something serious was bothering his old friend, but he was almost too afraid to ask. He cleared his throat and asked again, "Bobby, what's wrong?"

"Dean, this is Sam's prescription. And what it's saying ain't good news either." Bobby told him, his voice was trembling.

"Wh…wh…what does that say?" Dean could feel that he was shaking inside and outside, both with fear and cold.

"Dean…" Bobby got up from the couch and stood in front of his older nephew, "…the prescription says that Sam has…ah…chronic sinusitis." Bobby stopped for a moment as he saw Dean was visibly became three shades pale, "…and it's severe. The diagnosis says that Sam has acute case of Rhino-sinusitis."

"What?" Dean was dumbfounded as he heard those 'non-dean-understandable' medical jargons.

"Bacterial rhino-sinusitis. It's an infection in the nose and sinuses." Bobby looked at Dean accusingly, "Didn't you know that Sam has some kinda sinus problem? Don't tell me you didn't."

"Well, sometimes he complained that he had some major headache. I thought it was just a side effect of those freaking visions he was having lately." Dean rubbed his forehead clumsily as he paced in a nervous manner, "But he never mentioned that he had sinusitis." Dean suddenly spun to Bobby's direction, "…but Bobby, I don't understand. I thought sinusitis is just a minor illness. So, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is Dean…" Bobby held Sam's prescription almost over Dean's face, "…it's okay when it's getting treated. You know when Sam was diagnosed…" Bobby's voice again fuming in utter irritation, _**'sometimes Dean's behavior drives me nuts,'**_… "It was two months ago. You got that now?"

Dean took that prescription with a trembling hand. Bobby's word made him flinch and fear for his brother was gradually gearing up high.

Bobby continued, "…the doc had prescribed a CT scan and MRI scan which I don't think Sam had ever done. And I also don't think he has taken or bought those medications. Now you understand why the boy was looking so sick since…since your father's death?"

Dean looked at Bobby with glistening eyes after hearing those non-heated words spilling from his mouth.

"The doc also found out that Sam had been suffering from some breathing problem, so he prescribed albuterol. But it's not enough. As little as I know about that stuff, I know, if those minor sinus things don't get treated in time, they can cause many complications."

"Bobby!" Dean was looking back and forth from the prescription to Bobby as those words were starting to register in his weary mind. All he could remember then was Sam standing in front of him, face pale, brown bags under his weary eyes, shoulder slumped in exhaustion, clearly telling him how hard he had been working lately without having proper sleep, proper food and proper _support_. Dean flinched as the memory assaulted his puzzled brain. He remembered when he shoved Sam hard and blamed him pathetically for their poor livelihood, for their father's death, watching his brother cry silently…Dean shook his head wistfully…he had watched that Sam's nose was draining nasty mucus, but he had grimaced in utter disgust, thinking that his brother was nothing but a stupid…fool…baby, who couldn't even keep his nose from running,…concern had been far from his mind.

Bobby was watching Dean silently as he could see that thousand emotions were playing over the young hunter's face. He felt sorry for the boy. He knew by heart that Dean could never hurt his little brother intentionally. He knew the boy loved his little brother more than the whole universe. He could understand how Dean would feel after his Dad's death. Bobby knew John had done something to Dean before he died, because he found out, that before he died, he had spent some time alone with Dean, making Sam leave the hospital room. He knew John Winchester from head to toe; he knew John must have told Dean something about something, not to mention that it somehow involved Sammy, which had left Dean totally devastated. He also knew that John had made a deal with a demon to save his first born, to keep his last born safe. Bobby chewed his lower lip and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. He just couldn't blame the poor boy. What he did to his brother, was just a game of the time. But he didn't think that it would head out of control that much.

Dean cleared his throat and put aside his thought as he felt Bobby's scrutiny making a hole in his back and turned, "What complications Bobby?"

"Probably nothing if it gets checked soon. I don't think it's too late. If we take Sam to the hospital and get him checked, I think everything will be alright." Bobby tried to assure Dean.

"You think so?" Dean's voice was full of concern.

"Hope so. The main thing is concerning me most his asthma, Dean." Dean arched his eyebrows. "But don't worry…" Bobby tried to smile but failed miserably, _**'Hell, I'm so friggin' scared for that boy,'**_… "I am sure after getting him properly checked up, everything will be fine."

"Yeah, but he owes me a serious beat down for keeping that secret." Dean made a pace towards the store room, which Sam was currently inhabiting but halted in mid-way as Bobby's hard hand clamped his nape.

"Don't you try to go that way or I will whip your a** to hell. Just go and get your fool brother over here. I will go and ready the car." Bobby told in a mocking way.

"Yeah, yeah. Got that clear." Dean smirked and ran towards his little brother's room.

"Those idjits are sure gonna give me an early grave tour, if they keep continuing this." Bobby grumbled under his teeth and again scrutinized the prescription prescribed for Sam Winchester.

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Dean took a deep cleansing breath as he stepped forward to Sam's room. The door was locked from inside. Dean was fidgeting, "Man, this is so awkward," he chewed his lower lip and made himself ready to call for Sam. _**'Okay, I can do this. After all he is my brother and…'**_ He moved a little towards the door and knocked, "Sam? Sam, open the door Sammy."

No reply.

"Okay, I deserve this." Dean muttered to himself and again pounded on the door, "Sammy c'mon. I am…okay… you wanna hear this, so I'm on it. I am sorry Sammy, I hit you…" Dean swallowed a lump and continued, "…I shouldn't have said those words to you little brother. But you know…you know me, right? I just can't control my damn temper, but I swear, I will try to do in the future. I promise Sammy, now please, open the door buddy."

An eerie silence was the only response Dean received.

Dean closed his eyes in defeat. God, this was getting so awkward. Dean leaned his forehead against the wooden door and sighed heavily._** 'God, Sam's being such a drama queen. But I have to control myself. I've already done so much damage on the kid.'**_ He pounded again, this time pretty hard, "Sammy please, quit this for a second. This is not a perfect time for being so emo, man! Okay, here's the deal, you open the door, get yourself checked in the hospital and I will apologize. I will do whatever you want baby brother. I will kiss your toe if you want me to do it, but if you get bitten by my canine in the process, don't blame me." Dean was rambling and tried to joke to lighten the situation but failed miserably, when no sound came from Sam's room.

Again a loud roar of thunder crashed nearby and that made Dean flinch**. **_**'Sam doesn't like thunderstorm, he must be afraid now,'**_ Dean banged harder and cried, "Sammy, open the door, Sammy. SAMMY." Hoping the authoritative tone would make Sam oblige.

Dean pressed his ear over the door, afraid that his brother might have fallen asleep or fainted somehow. As the thought 'fainted' kicked in his brain, his worry level increased tenfold. He tried to hear his brother's breathing, or coughing or anything that could give a proof that he was still there. But unfortunately he got nothing; just the angry bellowing sound of the heavy storm was filling his ears.

"Sam? SAMMY OPEN THE DOOR, DAMNIT." Dean shouted out so loud, it would wake the dead from the crypt. Dean banged his fists furiously against the door and cried…

"SAMMY!"

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Bobby was studying Sam's prescription with utter concentration; suddenly he heard loud banging was coming from the junk-room accompanied with Dean's cacophony. He shot up from the couch and almost ran towards the room. He saw that Dean was pounding the wooden door loudly and calling Sam's name over and over. Before Bobby could question him, he turned to Bobby, his face full of concern and fear, "Bobby, Sam isn't answering me Bobby. Something's wrong with him. Bobby!"

"What?" Bobby's face was filled with anxiety, "Lem'me try." Bobby moved Dean from his position and banged the door, "Sam, Sam it's Bobby. Open the door boy. Sam!"

The reply was same as it was before. They looked at each other with worry. Bobby tried to listen what's happening inside the room but he wasn't successful for the loud roaring and howling of the thunderstorm.

"Break it."

Before Bobby could finish his words Dean already threw a solid kick on the door. "Owww…" He cried in pain and grabbed his leg as the heavy door just bulged slightly. "Damnit boy, wait for me wouldja!" Bobby looked at Dean and they both nodded in silent decision. They positioned facing each other and counted, "One…two…three…" then threw themselves at the door with their shoulders. The door opened with a loud thud and they both sprinted into the room.

Upon entering in the room they were greeted with emptiness. There was no sign of Sam, the rumpled bed sheet and a worn out pillow lying haphazardly on the bed were the only sign that someone had been living in the crappy room. Paper and other belongings were scattered everywhere on the floor and Sam's clothes and other necessities were also lying in a heap. Dean's eyes scanned the small dirty room for a mere second and then whispered, "Where's Sam?"

Bobby was also monitoring the whole situation, when his gaze fixed onto the opened window. One of the open shutters was banging back and forth in the heavy whip of the wind. Massive amounts of raindrops were splattering into the room and wetting almost half the belongings. "Damn" Bobby swore loudly and turned towards Dean, "Dean, I think, Sam has run away."

"What? Bobby. No." Dean voice was trembling as he almost chocking his own tears.

"The evidence he left behind clearly tells that he took off. Damn that boy." Bobby went to the bed and picked up something, "And he left his cell phone too."

"No no no no no, that can't be happening, Bobby. He can't run away from me. Why would he." Dean was almost hyperventilating.

Bobby bit back an angry retort when he heard Dean's response, _**'why wouldn't he? After you told him all those things…'**_ Bobby reached to Dean a placed a hand over his shoulder, "Calm down, boy."

Dean was crying now. His green orbs were glistening with unshed tears, "This is all my fault Bobby." He sniffles, "All my fault. He took off because of me. I hurt him; I hurt him so much…" Tears were streaming from his eyes as he sat down on his brother's bed, "I made him do this. I f****** practically told him to go away."

"Dean! This is not the time for self destitution. We need to find Sam and we have to do it fast, before it's too late." Bobby tried to console the stricken young man and get him to his feet so he would help to find their lost boy.

"He is so sick Bobby! He is so damn sick and he is out in this horrible storm. He didn't even take his cell phone so we could at least track him." Dean dropped his head into his palms and cried, "If something happens to Sammy…"

Bobby was looking for something that could help them find the youngster, as he was listening to Dean's self-mortifying speech with a sore heart. Suddenly his eyes caught onto something that was fluttering on the small table held down clumsily by a paper weight. He took the paper from the table and scanned the words written on it quickly.

"Damn it Sammy."

Dean flinched as the loud cussing from Bobby's mouth filled the room. He looked up and saw Bobby standing in front of him with a grim face. Getting up, he asked, "What Bobby?"

Bobby said nothing but thrashed a paper into his hand. Dean looked at the paper, 'It's Sam's handwriting.' He looked again at Bobby and started to read…

**Dean,**

**I think when you find this letter I might be gone. I know you don't want to hear anything from me right now because I'm such a lousy, selfish brother who has given you nothing but problems. I'm sorry about what I said earlier about you, about Dad. I know I shouldn't have said those things to you, I know how you feel about Dad although I never quite understand it. I know deep down that I'm the one who's responsible for our…your Dad's death, Mom's death even Jessica's death. It's a truth that everyone around me dies as I'm one of the cursed children. I don't want you die, I don't want that Bobby dies…because of me. It's true what you said earlier that I screwed up everything. I know, believe me I know how screwed I am Dean. All I can do is just giving pain and misery to everyone who tried to love me. You always tried to make things right for me, but I am not worth it. Life would have been better If I had never been born Dean! Mom should have left me to die in that fire so you could have a family, a father, a mother…a life. I was a disappointment to everyone, still am…but won't be for much longer. I think you'll be better off without me. Life will be more peaceful without having a brother like me. Don't worry Dean; you won't have to regret ever again what Dad has done for you. I will make everything okay, at least for one time in my miserable existence. Please, don't try to find me, I don't want you to give up your whole life for a pr*ck like me. I want to go, from your life…from everything. But before I go, I will make everything better, I promised to Dad, Dean…**

**Be safe Bro, tell Bobby that I'm sorry for everything. Tell Dad I love him. Try to forget me and torch my all belongings after I'm gone. Don't feel sorry, but remember once in a while…I love you.**

**Sammy.**

"Oh Sammy…" Dean was now shaking and crying miserably. The letter was threatening to fall from his hand as he tried to control his emotions. He looked at Bobby who stood perplexed in front of him. "Bobby! Bobby, where is my brother Bobby? We have to find him. God, Sammy, I sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry."

Suddenly Bobby remembered something he had read in Sam's letter. "Lemme see that again," He snatched that letter from Dean's hand and read it quickly, "Dean, start searching and tell me what things exactly Sam has taken with him."

"What?" Dean was certainly astonished.

"Just tell me boy or we won't be able to find Sam." Bobby growled.

Dean scanned Sam remaining belongings again and told with quivering voice, "Ahh, he hasn't taken much Bobby. I think he just took Dad's journal but otherwise almost nothing. His hunting knife is still here. Why?"

"I don't know. I just thought…" without warning he bolted up and started to run to the library room. Dean knitted his brows in confusion as he strode behind his friend, "Bobby, what happened?"

"Do you realize what books Sam was reading before the fight Dean?" Bobby asked as he entered the library room and threw himself over the table that was piled up with the collection of books Sam had been reading.

"No, Bobby, what are you trying to tell me damnit!" Dean asked with utter frustration.

Bobby gasped in shock as he took the topmost book from the table and turned to Dean. He watched that Dean became shockingly pale when he saw the book, "The book he was reading, Dean, it's **'Deal With A Demon'**. I think Sam went to the **crossroad** to make a **deal**."

"Sammy..."

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**TBC**

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**OH MY GOD…??????? CROSSROAD…. "DEAL" ….WITH A DEMON…!!!!!! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME; THIS IS FOR SOME REVIEWERS WHO THINK I'M KINDA EVIL. WELL SORT OF…HAHAHA!!**

**Anyway, Thanks to the all new reviewers who reviewed me. I want to thank some anonymous 'ang3l' and 'gabi2305' who reviewed my story.**

**Again, if new readers like my story and wanna read it later, please let me know. Drop a line. It'll help me to write better in future.**

**Love**

**Ritu.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Beta: - Thanks to Vonnie, whose encouraging words and support gave me strength to write more.**

**A/N: - Wow, I'm flattered to see how many reviews my story's got for the previous chapter. Thanks Friends. I really needed it. You rock.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Sam was walking sluggishly, but as fast as his weary legs could carry him. He was way too tired for a journey; hell, he couldn't even stand properly on his feet. As he stepped, afraid he would end up planting his face into the muddy path, he blink rapidly to clear his sight, which was obscured by massive raindrops. His vision was fading in and out constantly _and_ time after time, bone chilling wind busted through his heated body.

Sam stopped for a moment as he was out of air and bent his head back on his neck to take a cleansing breath, but it wasn't possible when heaven showed all its grace and poured the entirety of its holy water over him. It was harder to breathe; his head was hurting so badly now, it felt, like it would rip open at any second. Sam wiped both his hands over his face to remove the droplets of rain, but it was unsuccessful, as another bout of rain splashed over him and rinsed his face once again.

It was dark; the only visible things were the too dim light posts standing beside the road in a slouched manner, like at any time, the light inside them would vanish. Some of the lamps had already given up, which only helped the darkness be more vivid. The heavy rain made all things blurry and a sudden blaze of thunder made the earth shutter in pain.

Sam pulled the straps of his bag pack and embraced his upper body with his hands. It was already a cold day and the continuous rain and stormy wind making it even chillier. He was shivering uncontrollably as he was only wearing a long sleeve shirt over a t-shirt. His clothes were completely wet and clinging to his body as the chill was entering through his skin like someone was poking him constantly with thousand of icy knives. _**'I can't die here in a frigging rainstorm. I have to make the deal before death takes me away'**_ Sam thought as he dragged his weak legs over the draining road. He would have to walk a long way to reach his destination or else…, _or else_ he would be a failure again. "Nahhh, can't…can't…hafta go…make things right…" Sam mumbled incoherently and limped forward.

Without warning, a massive thunder crashed to the ground where he was standing nearby. The bright blaze of lightning almost blinded him as he pressed his hands tightly against both ears. Dropping on his knees and gasping, _**'way too close, it was way too close…'**_ Sam started rocking back and forth as he felt a panic attack starting to creep up inside his chest. His head was throbbing relentlessly and his chest felt congested. He couldn't breathe_**, 'oh God, oh God…,'**_ he pressed his left hand on his chest and started rubbing hard, hoping that would make the tightness go away. Raindrops were cascading over his face and making their way down to his body. He somehow got up and made his way to a tree, though he knew it was risky being under a tree in a horrific rainstorm, but right now he didn't have any other options. He took temporary shelter under the tree and placed his head in between his knees. Closing his eyes, he tried to take some deep breaths. His lungs were burning, breaths hitching, his eyes, nose and cheeks were screaming in utter pain, his enervated body was starting to give out…he knew he couldn't make his way to the old creek in this manner…he wasn't even able to haul his body up anymore, to take a breath without severely wheezing, he knew he would pass out anytime now and then… _**'Damn Winchester, you are nothing but a black spot out for this surname…'**_he thought wryly and leaned against the tree trunk. His duffel slid from his slacked shoulder as his head lolled and rested on it. Heavy wind blew from his side and slapped hard against his face. His ears were ringing; black dots were dancing in front of his eyes as blackness clouded at the edge of his vision. He took one more sluggish breath, before his body gave out to peaceful nothingness.

Dean was wandering super anxiously as he was trying to digest the news, "No no no no no, Sam can't go to the crossroad. He can't do that. He can't…Bobby…" he stopped and chewed his finger nail, "Why in the earth he decided to do something stupid like that? We have to find him before he does something we have to regret." Dean quickly picked his leather jacket up and hurried to the exit but halted abruptly when Bobby grabbed his collar from behind. "Just hold on a second, wouldja."

"Bobby c'mon, Sam's out there somewhere, alone, sick, possibly hurt…" Dean sounded irritate, "…We don't have time for self recrimination. We have to find my brother before it's too late." Dean's voice was trembling at the end.

"I know Dean, but you have to wait." Bobby told him in a stern voice.

"But why?" Dean whined as agitation clearly showing in his eyes. "Bobby please, my brother…"

"I know your stupid brother is out there and he's heading to make a deal." Bobby bawled and Dean paused. "Dean, I'm as worried for Sam as you are. But you know, we have to go after him with proper back ups. What if he reached to crossroad and is facing the demon and we are not able to stop the demon from making Sam do the deal? We don't even have the Colt that could kill the b*tch dead." Bobby's voice croaked.

Now Dean was nervous. He swallowed a couple of times and fidgeted. "Then what are we supposed to do now? We can't just sit here. At least we have to find him before he reached that damn area." Suddenly Dean stopped and asked, "Where is the location of this crossroad?"

"There are many crossroads around this town." Bobby was flipping pages of a book and reading something intently, before he continued, "The nearest crossroad is old creek, but it is way too far from here. If we start driving now, we wouldn't able to get there before a good hour at least."

"Old creek, old creek…" Dean was becoming jittery. "But Sammy didn't take a car, so I think he's on his feet." Dean absently looked at the window and flinched as a loud bout of heavy wind thrashed against the closed wooden shutters, _**'Sammy…'**_ he thought and spoke, "If he is walking, I don't think he could go any further. He is too weak for a long journey like that." Dean clamped his fists on Bobby's shoulders and shook him. "Bobby, we still have some time. He left only half an hour ago or so. We could still catch him on the way." He snatched the car keys from the table and ready to stride.

"Wait Dean, I know you are thinking right, but it's Sam we are talking about." Bobby closed the book and ran towards the basement with Dean following his way. "We can't underestimate the brain boy, and you know that too." He was panting, "If he sets his mind onto something, sick or what, he will consummate it any way he can. So we can't take the risk, we have to go with proper ammunition and a plan before it's too late."

"But how Bobby? We don't have any demon killing gun or anything like it. We can't kill a demon with just rock salt and holy water!"

"Yes, we can." Bobby opened his basement room's door where he kept all his weapons and hunting things. "If we have perfect plan then we can do anything. You got that now boy. Now follow me and grab the things I think we might need."

The next couple of minute passed silently as they gathering their necessities for this hunt. Dean was quiet but thousand thoughts were playing in his tormented mind. All of them were about Sam, his brother, his life, the only light in his disturbed, dark life, and he made this light go away. He banished his brother, his little brother from his life. The brother, who was meant to be his source of his joy, whose single tear made his heart ache, whose dimpled smile could lit up the dark. His mild nature and shyness were a big part of Dean's world, hell, Sammy was Dean's only world and he ended up crashing it into a million pieces. Dean secretly wiped a tear away, not wanting Bobby to see his weakness.

Since childhood, Sammy had always been a clingy one, always stuck with Dean. In times of joy, sadness or fear, Sammy always had been glued to Dean and who was he fooling; he loved to be clung with that boy. The little boy his mother gave to him, his father's pride, his mother's angel and her legacy…his Sammy…he made his life worth living. Dean stifle a sob, if something happened to Sammy, he would never forgive himself. He would never survive without having the shadow of his brother around.

Dean startled when he felt Bobby's hand on his shoulder and stood up. He cleared his throat a little and asked in a hoarse voice. "Are we finished yet?"

"Well, almost." Bobby muttered and rubbed his hand on his bearded chin, "Just one last thing. We have to drench this rope with holy water."

"What?" Dean's mouth fell agape as he heard this bizarre order.

"Yeah. Go get some holy water while I get the incantation ready." Bobby was flipping through a small book with a knitted eyebrows and looked at Dean, clearly irritated. "What are you staring at me like an idiot boy? We don't have time for this sh*t. Just do what I said. GO." Bobby barked in an authoritative voice that made Dean shudder, "Okay grumpy." He muttered and left.

After returning with a bucket of holy water, Bobby drenched the long thick rope into it and started chanting in a low humming voice. After a few minutes he stopped and ordered, "C'mon, it's time. Let's go."

Dean was feeling utterly stupefied. He didn't understand, why Bobby was delaying so much for this crap and why a rope…holy water…Dean opened his mouth but before he could ask something he was cut off. "Let's go to the car. I will explain everything on the way."

Dean didn't spoil another second as they ran towards the garage and quickly loaded their belongings on the back seat. Dean slid to the driver seat, Bobby was riding shotgun. "Keep watching the roads, we might find Sam somewhere. Keep your eyes and ears open," Dean nodded in anticipation and pressed the accelerator hard. The old car roared and sped towards the destination of the old creek. The wipers were working hard to clear the windshield, which were extremely obscured by rain splash but Dean's moist eyes were still bleary as he bit his lower lip so hard it draw blood, "I'm coming Sammy. I'm coming."

* * *

…_**shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son…**_

"Noo…"

…_**Good night, love…**_

"Unhh…no…no…"

…_**What would I do without you…**_

…_**crash and burn…**_

…_**crash and burn…**_

…_**crash and burn…**_

…_**crash and burn…**_

"Nooooo…"

Sam woke up and heaved frantically, feeling something _or someone_ tapping on his cheek. His chest felt constricted, he couldn't breathe from his blocked nose. He gasped anxiously and opened his eyes a mere slit. A shadowy figure was looming in front of him; his _or her_ lips were moving…Sam couldn't make the words out properly. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision; oh, the nightmare was so vivid, so real. Sam gritted his teeth and grabbed his aching chest. Tears were leaking immensely from the massive exertion but they were admixed with raindrops, so no one would be able to find out he was crying. Sam wheezed as he tried to pull more oxygen in his burning lungs and looked at the figure, _it was a lady_, he figured as his vision was somewhat clearer.

"…r…ou…runk…ster…hey…ya…k…"

Sam only registered some scattered words spilling from her lips as he was busy to gain his equilibrium_**. 'How long I was out?'**_ Sam squeezed his eyes and shook his head.

"Wh…what?"

"Hey you okay mister?" A soft feminine voice filtered into his ears, "Are you drunk?"

"No."

The lady was crouched beside him, holding an umbrella in one hand, the other brushing her chin worryingly. She wasn't sure, if this young man was a lousy drunkard or something else. It was a stormy night and no one would sleep under a tree, getting wet all over, except, if he was a besotted punk. But certainly the young man in front of her didn't look anything like that; his expressive face, although flushed with fever, clearly showed that he was more dignified than that. She licked her lips and pressed a fumbling hand over the obviously sick young man's cheek. "Boy, you're burning up. Why are you here anyway?"

"I…ah…I was returning to home, but…but suddenly the rain started and I…just stuck here…" even though he was sick, Sam's smart hunter mind was still playing actively. "…there was no cab or something that would take me to old creek, where my house is."

"Old creek?" The lady seemed to be thinking about something.

"Yea…yeah…" Sam was panting hard, trying to get the lady's attention, still engrossed in her into 'old creek' thought.

"But old creek has been a desolate area as long I know, I don't think there's…"

"Yes, there is. Please, help me. I don' wanna die here. I wanna go home. Ah…my head…I think I'm gonna pass out…" although he was really feeling that way, he usually wasn't one to show his weakness, but this time was different. He knew he would never be able to reach old creek by himself. He was sure he needed someone to help and fortunately this kind lady with a car came to him and was going to use all this 'emo' power to convince her. Sam flashed his biggest, dewy, sensitive, 'I'm so sick, please help me' look and as usual, it hit its bull's eye.

"Okay, okay. I will help to get you back home. Come on." The lady was totally convinced by utter sympathy for the poor, helpless but way too handsome boy.

The lady snaked a small hand over Sam's slender waist and tried to put the young man's long hand over her shoulder, somehow. 'Boy he was too tall.' Sam tried to help her but his legs felt like overcooked noodles. Thank goodness the car was parked just beside them. The lady somehow managed to put Sam's long ailing limbs into the passenger seat and put his duffel beside him. Sam was struggling to breath, and a wet gurgling sound was coming from his throat. Sam sensed he was scrutinized by the lady and opened his eyes. His head was resting against the headrest. He whispered, "Please hurry."

"Okay, okay. I' m going." The lady quickly stepped into driver side and started the car.

"Name's Brittney by the way."

"Sam." Sam could feel his over weary body starting to give up. His head was hurting with major intensity like it would blow up any second. His eye irritation was bothering to hell and _what's left_; he couldn't breathe from his nose. His chest was heaving with each intake of breath and his fever was burning him into ashes inside his body.

"You sure you don't want a hospital. I don't like how your breathing sounds." Brittney sounded concern.

"Noo…" Sam moved his head a little and without opening his eyes, "I will…oh…be okay if…ah…if…I reach home. P'ease…h'w fa' are we?" His voice slurred.

"Well, it's almost half an hour left." Brittney chewed his lip and glanced at Sam. Sam seemed to be asleep. His head was lolling with each jolt, lips parted open. Tiny wheezing sounds were coming from his lips, pale face flushed with fever.

"What's wrong with you Sam?" Brittney murmured and pressed the accelerator hard.

* * *

Sam woke with a start, feeling someone nudging his shoulder lightly and calling his name. His widened his eyes trying to make the headache go away. He lifted his head slightly, Brittney's face was hovering over him anxiously; he grimaced and backed away a little. "Are we there yet?"

"Seems so…." Brittney bent slightly to take a good look of outside; it was a lone desolate area. As far as the vision went, the only visible thing was crop fields…extending far, far away to met the horizon. There was no house, no sound, hell, she doubted if there was any sign of life or anything. There were two roads meeting up and parting again right here. Long dark grasses and crop plants were hanging limply from each side into the crossroads. A scarecrow was hanging on a long bamboo stick at the side of it, the pale moon light was illuminating it and a ghostly shadow was forming from this lifeless thing.

Brittney swallowed nervously as she was measuring the whole situation in her confused brain_**, 'No way could there be a house. It's nothing but a freaking desert.'**_ She startled, when she heard the light click of the door latch and saw Sam stumble outside, closing the door behind him. It's was still raining, but the storm seemed to have abated slightly.

"Thanks." Sam muttered and turned.

"Are you sure you live here? B'cos I don't think any living being lives here. You sure you're not mistaking anything?" Brittney asked in utter agitation, it was clear to her, that the strange sick young man was up to something.

"No, I do live here. I…ah…just have to cross this road, there is my house." Sam quickly flashed a tight dimpled smile and patted lightly over the glass. "Thanks anyway."

Brittney clearly understood that it was a goodbye speech. The young man was telling her to go away. She raised her eyebrows, not that she was angry or something but she was concerned for Sam. He seemed so weak, so sick, not to mention so stubborn. She wanted to do something for the man, but it was already too late. She shouldn't be here right now, but her sympathetic nature led her this way. **'I have to go now or else my mom will rip my head off.'**She thought and muttered. "Okay then. But please, take care of yourself okay! I mean it."

Sam tried to smile and nodded as she backed her car and drove away. Sam stared at the way she drove for couple of second and then clumsily went to the center of the crossroad where two roads crossed each other like an 'x'. He looked up at the sky, rain still dropping like blessing, or curse. The full moon was partly obscured by black cloud, but somehow it was able to give some light over the dark earth. There was no sound, not even any nocturnal creature was showing their presence. There was only darkness, only beckoning of death, whispering of unsatisfied spirits...calling him to join them. A sudden chill shuddered over Sam's body as a ghostly feeling crept up his bones. He could hear the whooshing sound of air calling to him,

'_doooooooooooo itttttttt Sammmmmmmmmmmmmm…doooooooooo ittttttt…'_

Sam flinched as he averted his gaze towards the slouched scarecrow. It was swaying slightly with the rhythm of whipping wind and rain. He could hear a snuffled voice from nowhere urging him…

'_goooooooooooo Sammmmmmmmm…doooooooooooooo ittttttttt…'_

Sam swallowed as the world tilted slightly sideways. He grabbed his head and swayed a little. His breath hitched in his chest, as suddenly he heard a ghostly giggling coming from nowhere…

'_looooooooooooooooousy…hehehehehehehehehe…'_

"Shut up." Sam shouted out loud.

The childish ghostly giggle filtered again all over the atmosphere.

'_Sammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy isssssssssssss aaaaaaaaaaaa looooooooooousy…'_the grass and crops were suddenly started swinging hard, making a wheezy noise, like they were clapping rhythmically with the ghostly insulting voice.

"SHUT UP. **SHUT THE HELL UP**. Please." Sam dropped on his knees and clamped his ears. He was shaking his head vigorously at the taunting words torturing him to death. "Please."

'_then dooooooooooooooooooooooo ittttttttttttttttttttttt…'_

Sam suddenly straightened himself and dropped his backpack on the ground. It was soaking wet but he didn't care. He pulled a small wooden box out and started to fill it with some small hoodoo bones, mojoic dry herbs, crossroad dust and a torn photo of him. He closed the lid of the wooden box and then pulled a Swiss knife from his sock. He dug a hole with it in the middle of the crossroads and scratched the rest of it frantically with his hands. His fingertips and knuckled turned bloody but he was totally oblivious to the hurt. After scrambling dirt and pebbles from the hole, he put the wooden box in and hastily filled it with the remaining dirt.

Sam stood up weakly onto his feet and scrubbed a weary hand over his face. The remaining dirt and blood from his hands and face were wiped away by rain. He was fidgeting, the long deep silence smothering him. All sounds from the earth, even the whooshing, clattering…all vanished at once. Sam turned, hoping to see someone or something, but there was nothing but emptiness.

"Where are you…where are you…c'mon and show yourself you B*TCH." Sam cried from the top of his lungs in frustration.

Still nothing. Only a chilly wind blew across his face, like someone touching him affectionately.

Suddenly Sam felt someone's presence behind him and spun immediately. A beautiful woman in a black dress was standing behind him, her eyes flashing red as she smiled mischievously.

"I was waiting for you so long Sam Winchester…"

* * *

**TBC**

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**Eeeeek…Cliffy…okay, how many of you guys wanna kill me right now!! Hehe. Do I have to run away like Sam? Anyways, I hope everything is alright with this chapter, though I was little nervous about it. Please, tell me how it is. If you enjoyed this chapter then please REVIEW. I write story for you guys, if you tell me about it, I will do better in future. So, don't just leave after reading, try to give me a word, you know, reviews mean a lot to an author.**

**Lots of Love**

**Ritu.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Beta: My dear friend, Vonnie.**

**A/N: This chapter is especially dedicated to my friend "Cindy123". Everything will be alright Cindy, talk to you soon. Love you.**

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* * *

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**WHITE LIGHT**

* * *

Sam stood perplexed as the black dressed demon possessed woman trudged towards him. Her face was gleaming with a mysterious beauty. Her lips curled slightly upward and she licked her lower lips suggestively. A cool breeze admixed with rain blew over them as a continuous hushing sound filtered through the uncanny atmosphere.

Sam narrowed his eyes into almost a slit as she came towards him, she took a long breath looked like she was taking his scent with utter satisfaction.

"Mmmm…you grew tall and handsome, Winchester!" She smiled wickedly.

Sam didn't say anything but watched her in an indecisive manner. His palms clenched into a tight ball as he swallowed quite nervously.

She craned her neck and brought her mouth towards his ear. "I knew you would come, Sam…" she hissed and placed her palm over his face, "…I knew it, that's why he especially sent me for you."

Sam heart was beating fast as she was getting closer to him. He had never faced a crossroad dealing demon before. He knew they were way too claver, they lied in such a convincing way to screw with anybody's head, pulling it off without a hitch. They always laid a snare to entrap the fool human, who came for a deal. He was scared but tried to keep his face expressionless as he was being goaded by the demon lady.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a stern voice.

She stared at him for couple of beats like she heard something unexpected and smirked maliciously. "My…my…so that's the ultimate Winchester cockiness! Impressive." She rounded to Sam back and burst into a manic giggle.

Sam shivered, partly for the chilly wind and partly for the utter creepiness coming from the red eyed demon. His vision was fading in and out, it was harder to take a proper breath without his chest aching and his brain was getting clouded with utmost exhaustion. He wasn't sure how much longer his legs could carry him without buckling. He somehow stifled a cough and muffled under his teeth with venom. "Cut the crap. I'm not here to play a drama. I want to do…"

"A deal…" Sam's voice was cut off mid sentence as she interrupted and stood in front of the handsome boy, "…I know. Sammy…" Sam grimaced as he heard his nickname on her dirty mouth but said nothing… "You came here to make a deal and that's why I am here too…sweetheart!"

Sam ears were burning as she spewed those sugar coated words, but he gritted his teeth in utter wrath and snarled. "Look b*tch, I don't wanna hear anything from you but deal. I want my dad back. Now."

The demon looked at him like she was shocked. "Ooh, you want your daddy back, that's really touching." She stepped closer to Sam. He tried to back away from her but his feet seemed like frozen to the ground. She took a handful of Sam's hair amorously and continued to stoke it. "Why Sam? Isn't Dean taking care of you much lately?"

"Shut up."

She giggled again as a gust of icy wind blew over them.

"Did your big brother throw you out of his life?" She taunted again with a cooing tone.

"I say **shut** **UP**." Sam nostrils were flaring as intense rage was bubbling in his veins.

"Okay…" The demon lady held her hands up in a mock surrender mode and smiled. "But, what would I get for giving you back your precious daddy Winchester?"

Sam inhaled a long sharp breath and looked at her. "Me."

Dean was driving super anxiously as he kept watching over the passing roadway. His mind was wrapped up in only one thought 'Sammy'. He had to find Sam, he had to apologize to his brother, Dean swallowed a lump and blinked furiously to send back the tears. He was driving almost more than half an hour but still, he still had a long way ahead to reach his Sammy. Dean stole a glance towards Bobby, who was reading something with a serious expression. There were two or three mysterious books on his lap and one was written in some foreign language Dean couldn't understand. Sometimes he wondered about, how wise their old friend really was, yet he never showed his brilliancy to anyone.

"So, how far are we?" Dean asked his deeply engrossed friend.

"Almost there. Drive faster so we will get there in time." Bobby muttered as he once again sank into the sea of written words.

Dean looked at his watch and sped up the car. As he was driving he saw a glimpse of a car that was coming from the direction in which they were going. Dean raised his eyebrows in astonishment. Who would be here in this desolate area in such a horrible stormy night? Some bad feelings were starting to tickle in his gut, when suddenly he was distracted from his thoughts as he heard Bobby's cussing. "Son of a b*tch."

"What Bobby? What happened?"

Bobby chewed his lower lip nervously and spoke. "I got some information about the dealing demons from these books and they are not good news either." He looked at Dean as his young friend set his jaw hard. He could understand that Dean didn't want to hear anything more that included his brother's dangerous situation, but there was nothing he could do about it now. They had to prepare themselves for the race of save Sam.

"Dean, you listening?"

"What you got?" Dean asked in a blank raspy voice.

Bobby looked at him sadly for some mere seconds and continued. "Well, there are some special kinds of demon I found in this book that might make deals …" Bobby held the book written in the foreign language in front of Dean's eyes and huffed as Dean snickered in disgust but continued anyway, "…Belial, Jahi, Jerbeth and Mummon." Bobby spilling all those name in one breath and heaved slightly.

"What…what the hell are you yammering Bobby, I can't understand a freaking word of it. What are Berbeth, Mujhi…what are these sh*ts?" Dean was feeling utterly annoyed.

"Belial, a demon of trickery, he can trick anyone and trap them into his snare. He is a quite powerful demon and can use his powers to make a deal with humans as commanded by his superior. As well as Jahi and Jerbeth, who are well known as specialists in debauchery and falsehood. They also can entrap a human and succeed easily in what they need, rather then what the human wants out of the deal…" Dean hands were literally shaking as he heard those classifications of demons which might get Sammy. He could feel a horrible sensation of fear creeping through his bones and the thought of losing his brother made him nauseous. His gripped the steering wheel hard as his knuckles turned pasty white. How would he able to save his brother when they didn't have any proper back ups. He felt like he's going to cry. _**'C'mon God. Don't do this please. Don't take my baby brother from me. He is the only one I left. I can't loose Sammy, I can't loose my Sammy.'**_ Dean was praying silently. He himself couldn't believe that he was praying, but he did it all for his brother's sake. If he lost Sammy…his thought was interrupted as he heard Bobby was calling his name over and over. He startled and adjusted his grip on the wheel once again, then shakily asked. "…what?"

Bobby laid a consolatory hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed lightly. He could see moisture pulling into those green orbs and it was clear, he was trying hard not to cry as he pressed his trembling lips together hard. He stifled a sob and looked with extremely saddened eyes at the older man. Bobby's heart ached for the poor boy but he knew he had to get Dean ready; he had to gear Dean up for Sam. They couldn't loose their boy and he was sure as hell that he would not.

"Dean, you have to straighten yourself. You can't give up now. We have to save Sam and we will." Bobby continued to pat Deans back as he tried to make the youth strong.

Dean took a couple of long deep breaths and calmed himself down slightly. He knew if he gave up now, it would cost him Sammy. After losing dad, he couldn't loose his brother too. Hell, he couldn't loose Sammy for anything, not even for Dad. He sure worshiped his father more than he loved him, but Sammy; Sammy meant the world to him. He not just loved the boy, Sam was practically his soul and no one can live without having their soul in their body.

"What do we have to do?" Dean glanced once again at his wrist watch, _**'Still fifteen minutes left to old creek. Sh*t.'**_

Bobby nodded as he realized Dean was gearing himself up once again. "Well, as I said before those demons were nothing but tricksters, we can't practically kill them without the special gun. So, we need to bind them into a binding spell and send their souls to hell where they belong."

"The Devil's trap?" Dean asked without averting his gaze from the front roadway.

"Yes. I will draw the Devil's trap, we just have to drag that thing into it. But it will be a hell of trying, you know…" Bobby voice trailed as Dean's deep determined voice cut him off…

"We will do it, Bobby. I have to do it for Sam." He clamped his jaw hard and revved the engine furiously.

The demon's eyes widened as she heard Sam bravely propose to exchange him to bring back John from death. A devilish smile spread across her red painted lips as she was quite surprised to see the stubborn boy's machismo. She clapped her hands in a mock felicitate way and cocked her head lightly. "My lord, you're brave, more so than I thought. But something's missing here. I can't do the deal."

"Why not?" Sam's voice quivered as he was certainly astonished by her denial.

"Because…" She licked her lip and stroked Sam's cheek lovingly. "The price is not enough."

"What? I'm giving myself, my life for my dad. I don't want ten years for this exchange; I don't even need ten days. Just give me back my dad and take me instead." Sam was shaking in exasperation, his legs were getting weaker with each passing moments.

"Why?" Her cold breath fell on his ear as she hissed. "Because your brother thinks you're nothing but a burden?"

"Shut up. That's none of your business."

"Yeees, it is. You want to end your life so your brother will think that you are or _were_ a hero, instead of a…" she smirked, "…lousy."

"SHUT UP." Sam shouted. He was feeling lightheaded from the sudden outburst.

She continued to taunt him with her venomous words. "You know Sam, you were the reason for your Daddy's death, your sweet innocent girlfriend's death and all the others, you didn't even know died for you…" Sam was gasping as he heard those harsh words, his chest felt like it was going to be ripped apart, "…you think only you dying is a fair trade?"

"Wh…what do you want?" Sam asked weakly.

"I want you, Sammy! Not your soul to rot in hell fire, I want you. My master sent me to take you instead of your father. You belong to us Sam, you are our Boy King." Her voice was so soft, so sweet; like someone was singing behind the background.

"No…no…I'm not…" Sam's knees hit the ground hard as his legs buckled under his body.

"Yes you are, always have been." She crouched in front of him and snickers lightly. Sam could feel his breathing getting weaker as short wheezing sounds were coming from his lungs. His head was hurting mercilessly and his body raged with extremely high fever. He knew he would collapse soon and die, before making the deal he came for. He couldn't comprehend the words she was spilling as his eyes started to roll back in their sockets.

Sam felt the demon host's soft small hands cupping his face as he tried to focus. The demon was saying something he registered, "…you are going to lead the demons army Sam you were chosen before you were born. Azazel fed his blood to…" Sam's vision dimmed again and his head rolled on his neck.

Sam must have fainted for some mere seconds as a hard slap jolted him back to reality. He gasped sharply as the hard slap spiked a searing pain into his skull. The host's face was no longer beautiful. Her face morphed into a nasty demonic shade and her eyes were flashing red to blackish crimson. Tears leaked from the corner of Sam's eyes as the host gritted her teeth. "You are tainted Sam. That's why everyone around you dies…"

"Nahh…"

"Yes, and if you keep breathing, one day your poisoned breath will blow your big brother to hell." Her words directly cut through Sam's soul as she mentioned Dean's death at Sam's hand.

"Please…" Sam weakly grabbed her hand. His heart was hammering hard in his chest.

"Yes Sam and that's the truth. You killed your father; the demons wanted you and that's why they abducted your father. You were chosen for the demon's army, that's why your mother died too…" Tears were cascading over Sam's pasty white face, he could feel the extreme pressure set into his brain as his nose started to bleed. "…you ruined your brother's childhood, Jessica's life, Meg's life…your father wanted you to die and deep down you know that your brother wants your death too."

Sam's breath hitched at what he heard but he said. "I'd rather die than lead a demon's army."

"No you won't…" The demon held Sam's chin in one hand and with the other grabbed his hair forcefully. "…you will do whatever we want…your father wants. If you agree with me I will give you back your father and Jessica too."

"Y…you're lying." Sam told her deliriously. Sam knew he shouldn't believe her, but the way she was convincing him about brining John and Jessica back, he was getting confused and puzzled.

"I'm not. Watch yourself." The demon host made a searing screechy noise and suddenly thick back clouds appeared from beneath the ground. The thick layer of pitch black clouds surrounded them and the ground started to shake like a sudden heavy earthquake had been forming. Sam could hear the loud cracks on the ground as the spirits of those who were resting under the earth, started to rise. The silent atmosphere suddenly filled with crying, yelling, screeching noises made by those unsatisfied rotten spirits. Sam was shaking in fear as those spirits rounded him and started to scream…

'_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam, dooooooooooo itttttttttttttttt, leeeeeeeeeeet usssssssss freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_

'_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam …'_

'_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam …'_

'_Youuuuuu ussssssss… Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam …'_

"Please stop…" Sam screamed in extreme agony.

'_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam…'_

"Stop it."

'_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam…'_

"I say stop it." Sam grabbed his head and started rocking to and fro as those screams pierced into his head like a hot poker.

"Sammy."

Sam's head shot up as he heard the familiar voice filled into his ears. He looked at the crowd of fidgeting spirits as a shadowy figure came and knelt in front of him.

"Daaaad?" Sam's voice quivered as tears once again filled in his mossy green hazel eyes with over emotion.

"Yes Sam, it's me." John's spirit spoke, but there was not a single bit emotion in it, the only thing Sam could see there was hatred and wrath flashing in his father's ghostly brown orbs.

"Dad, oh God, I'm sorry Dad you had to die…" Sam was crying bitterly, but John's face was showing no intention to wipe his son's tears.

"You should be." John's spirit blankly stated.

"What?" Sam was shocked. He didn't imagine this could happen, not his dad after all.

"You heard me Sam. You know you're the reason I got killed, Dean almost died for you. You are nothing but a killer Sam." John's vice blared.

"No dad, please,"

"Yes, and you know that too. You killed everyone, you killed my wife, you killed Dean's mother, you killed Jessica…you're a killer Sam. **A KILLER**..."

"No, please no more, please, no more…" Sam pressed his hands over his ears as his nose continued to bleed profusely. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think. His father's disgusted wrathful words killing him both inside and out.

"Killer Sam, killer…you are a killer…"

Sam was shaking his head vigorously as he heard a soft feminine familiar sound behind him.

"He is right Sam, you're nothing but a killer…" Sam gasped loudly as he saw the owner of the voice.

"Jess…, not you." Sam sobbed hard as he saw Jessica was haunting him too.

"Why Sam…? Why did you let me die in that fire? I shouldn't have loved you, Sam; it was the biggest mistake of my life. If I didn't love you, I would be alive now. It's your fault I'm dead. You killed me. You killed me and one day you will finish the job to kill you brother too."

"Noo…"

"Yes, and you're a selfish too Sam. When you have the chance to get both of us back, you deny it. You pathetic…lousy…freak…" It was no longer Jessica's sweet gentle voice he knew. It was full of wrath and hatred.

"No, no please, no Jess…"

"I want to live Sam, we want to live…" Jessica's snuffled voice filtering into his hearings. "…for once in your life do something good Sam. Do the deal you came for, so I, your father, both of us can live. Do it Sam."

Sam stared unbelieving towards her as his tears dried and left tracks on his cheeks.

"Do it Sam, finish the deal…" His father's commanding voice boomed in his head.

'_doooooooooooooooooo it…'_

'_doooooooooooooooooo it…'_

'_doooooooooooooooooo it…'_

"**STTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOPPP IT**, " Sam screamed his lungs out and suddenly everything stopped. Sam fisted his hair and bowed his head down. There was no more screaming of death, no more yelling, no more of his father's wrathful voice, no more of Jessica's taunting desires and hatred. Sam brought a hand over his mouth and wiped the blood leaking from his nose then blinked drowsily at the demon. She was smiling mischievously as she could muster that now her prey was determined would step into her trap.

"I will do it. I agree with your deal." Sam told her with a raspy, labored and defeated voice.

"Gotcha'…" the demon muttered. At last, success. They had been waiting for this day to come for so long. They now had their Boy King who would raise the demon's army, to bring hell on earth, release Lucifer from hell and destroy the earth and with it, mankind. She had succeeded in her mission. She convinced Sam, as her master ordered her. She was only 'one kiss' away from the sweet price of success. One kiss and the world would be their own. A huge smile of joy broke on her lips as she looked at the broken boy sitting limply in front of her. His eyes and face were swollen from crying, right cheek was smeared with dried blood, eyes downcast; all his life source was almost gone.

"You give your whole entity and soul for your father and Jessica?"

"Yes." Was the only response as he took another struggled breath and sobbed.

The demon crawled towards his personal space and held his face in her palms and drew her lips on his.

Sam knew it was the end, the end of his life, the end of the world; but he couldn't do anything. He had nothing left in his life to live for. Dean had banished him from his life, dad blamed him for everything, even Jessica. Sam didn't cry, he had no more tears left. All dried up, like his life, all dead. All he could do was the deal, he could see the demons lips advancing towards him and he was certainly ready for it. But suddenly his mind was distracted as he heard a faint scream coming from far behind him. His mind faltered from the task as he heard the soft cry, like, _like_ someone was calling him.

The demon was getting agitated as Sam got distracted from his task. She knew until they both kissed each other with proper concentration, the deal wouldn't be fixed. She tried to make Sam's mind focus on her, but right now his senses were far away from their actual location. Sam flinched again as he heard his _brother's_ voice screaming his name from not so far away…

"**SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMYYYYYYYYYY**…"

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Okay…DEAL!!! Don't kill me, I will give you the next chapter as soon as I can. Please… Please… Please…don't kill the poor helpless thing…CLIFFY…EVIL…I know…but what can I do…I am Cliffmaster! Hehehe.**

**Again, thanks to all who read and reviewed my story previously and gave me enough support to write more. You are all awesome.**

**I was way way nervous about this chapter, it's kinda tough, you see. Anyway, if you like this chapter, please review, it wouldn't kill you if you give me a single encouraging word. Okay Deal, give a review and get the next chapter…FREE!!**

**(Special note to Romi- Ami jani tui ebar sure amay mere phelbi, but ki korbo bol. Control korte parina cliffy charte. Raag korisna puuuhleez)**

**Thanks**

**Love**

**Ritu.**


	8. Chapter 8

**BETA: - Vonnie, thanks for your suggestion**

**Disclaimer: - I don't own that song, but 'm not sure about Sam. I can still marry him.**

**A/N: - Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed my story previously. I promised you that I will update soon, so…here it is.**

**Special thanks to a Sunflower…Soncnica, for her awesome support and Friendship. This one is for you Soni. **

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Dean watched in horror that the demon was advancing towards his brother, his Sam. His eyes widened as he looked at his brother, who sat on his knees passively, hands hanging limply in his sides, face ghostly pale, defeat was clearly showing on his usually so expressive face. Dean knew Sam had heard him, though he was too far from his reach, but he was terrified when he saw the demon possessed woman was going to kiss Sam and his 'oh no' Sam was doing nothing to prevent this from happening. It looked like Sam had given up, as if he didn't want to live and Dean knew he was the reason for it. He ran, as fast as his legs would allow him and watched her lips being only an inch away from his brother's and if they kissed…

"**SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY…NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…**"

Sam looked back again from where his brother's cry was coming, "Dean…" the only word he could mutter before the demon's strong hands snapped his head towards her. He could see that the demon's red eyes were burning like hell fire, face contorted like a fierce animal and she shouted in an absolute inhuman voice,

"NOOO, YOU CAN'T GO BACK NOW SAM. YOU AGREED WITH ME AND I'M GONNA TAKE YOU WITH ME." Her voice wasn't that of a woman's right then, it was a blend of a male and female voice and she was growling like a hungry lioness. Sam was shaking as her fire hot breath started to suffocate him and her bloody lips were almost touching the softness of his. Sam knew there was no way to go back, no way to defeat this demon anymore, nothing left…he closed his eyes and a lonely tear fell from the corner of his eye. Dean was there, he thought…Dean came for him, but Sam didn't want his brother to see his defeat. He was a failure, he failed in every exam of life and death, he wanted to die alone, but he had given himself to the demons. He had nothing left and as soon he kissed the demon…his whole being would be over and done with. He could feel her lips were going to press against his, when suddenly a loud bang interrupted them …

"**BOOM**."

The demon screamed monstrously as the solid rock salt bullet crashed into her skin. She released her hold on Sam and fell backward, writhing. With the sudden release from her death grip Sam also lost his balance and dropped onto his side. Dean cocked his shotgun as he watched the demon once again getting a grip and straightening herself and fired again. This time the heavy rock salt bullet squared direct into her chest and she backed a little but stayed on her feet.

"What the f***?" Dean murmured as the demon quite casually brushed the salts from her dress and smirked. He quickly reloaded the shotgun and aimed at her. The demon hissed with a wicked smile, "Dean Dean Dean, how sweet. Big brother came to the rescue of his cute little brother. Dramatic."

Dean was shocked as he watched that the rock salt did nothing but a scratch. How could this be possible? Rock salt couldn't terminate evil demons, but it could temporarily take them out of commission, but this one looked like she hadn't even been bothered. Dean stole a quick glance to his brother who was lying on the ground. He couldn't tell if his eyes were opened or closed. He was lying on his side; one leg bent underneath the other stretched leg. One hand lay in front of him as he was trying to reach something _or someone_ and other was hanging on his stomach. Dean swallowed hard as he noticed blood was flowing freely from his brother's nose and sniffed. He readjusted himself 'he couldn't loose himself now, he had to save Sam, if he lost concentration it would cost them both' so without hesitating he fired again.

A loud screech filled the atmosphere once more, as rock salt hit the demon again. It was a powerful demon, yet the rock salt worked like acid, it didn't matter how strong they were. The demon was gasping, "D…do…you think…th…that…y…your rock salt c…can stop me you f…fool?" She gritted her teeth venomously as the demon tried to move forward when suddenly someone jumped up from behind her and bound her with something solid. Dean smiled mischievously, "No, but this can."

The demon looked down as Bobby quickly bound the holy water drenched, incanted rope tightly around her mid torso and arms. The demon screamed as pure holy water started to seep into her tainted evil body and white smoke started to rise. Bobby yelled, "Dean, we have to drag this demon b*tch inside the Devil's trap. **COME ON**; take the other side of the rope."

Dean ran towards the demon without loosing even a mere second and grabbed the other side of the holy rope. The demon was beyond powerful and continuously struggling with the rope as the hunters tugged her furiously to the devil's trap which Bobby had drawn only a few feet away. The demon growled and screamed again with that same inhuman mixed voice, "**YOU FOOLS THINK SOMETHING LIKE THIS CAN STOP SOMETHING LIKE ME? MEEEE! YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM…WHAT I AM**…" The demon shrieked as Dean and Bobby continued to tug it, but it seemed to be impossible. They only could move the demon a few inches as she was getting heavy like an elephant.

"What the hell Bobby? Why can't we move the b*tch?" Dean screamed in frustration and fear.

Before Bobby could answer him the demon interrupted with an evil laugh, "**YOU HAVE NO IDEA HUMAN**…" she bowed her head and started to chant…

"_Esto se pone de manifiesto a través de rituales, de carácter ceremonial -posturas inefables dirigidas con precisión y solemnidad…"_

Suddenly the whole atmosphere started to change, stormy wind once again started to blow arbitrarily and a circle of black clouds forming above their head. Dean looked up high as lightning was forming through the mound of clouds. A terrible fear surmounted his body and he knew that Bobby was scared as hell too. He tugged the rope again but it was nearly impossible to move that thing an inch from its frozen position.

"What the hell…BOBBY…" he screamed out of his lungs as they couldn't hear each other's voice for the dangerously growling wind.

The demon continued to chant…

"…_que eran adaptadas para atraer la energía ultraterrenal deseada. Los símbolos, las posturas y el lenguaje utilizado no debían ser necesariamente comprensibles y tampoco debían ser conocidos racionalmente. Los mismos nombres de las entidades invocadas son en lengua bárbara, antigua o desconocida por los practicantes_…"

"Dean, we got a problem. This is a 'Belial' demon and it's very powerful. Nothing can stop it but the devil's trap and then we can banish it. I already set the trap up with proper elements and incantation, but we can't drag her a** into it." Bobby yelled and gasped as a whip of strong winds smashed his face.

"…_la eficacia del ritual dependía de la suspensión de la racionalidad humana a fin de conseguir_…"

"What do we do now?"

"…e_stos son elementos clave de las enseñanzas tradicionales y de las obras publicadas, que suelen dar un esbozo_…"

"I don't Know." Was Bobby's only response.

"…_elementos psíquicos superiores que reciben la energía __**divina o demoníaca**_." The demon finished it's chant with a thundered boom and snapped her head up high. The rope that bound her started to burn and she started to laugh. The laugh could chill the bone and blood, the mischievous laugh could wake the dead and make life take its last breath. Dean released his hold of the rope as it started to burn, so did Bobby. The demon snarled as the roped burned to ashes and cocked her head, "See?"

As she finished her words Dean felt himself flying through the air and banged into a tree with his back. The demon's telekinetic power pinned him to the tree as well as she threw Bobby and pinned him on the ground. Dean gritted his teeth and tried to free himself from the spell, but it was strong. Dean knew they were loosing the battle as he watched the demon was getting close to Sam. Dean looked at his brother who was still lying on the ground, he looked like dead, _'Noo' _Dean shook head as the thought started to break him from the inside. Tears were flowing from eyes like streams, but he was unable to do anything. Their plan had failed, he failed Sammy…Dean bit his lip hard…he had failed his Sammy again and again.

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Sam wasn't quite unconscious, yet on the verge of it. He could see that his brother tried to defeat the demon, so did Bobby, but neither one succeeded. His mind wasn't working right, it felt blocked. He cringed slightly as he watched the demon throw his brother and pin him, but all he could do was watch. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body. His tried but his body rejected to obey his command. He couldn't breath; the pressure on his chest getting heavier with every passing moment, feeling like an elephant was sitting on it. He couldn't feel the ache in his head anymore as it'd become so intense, leaving him only aware of the buzzing in his head. As the sound increased, his nose began to bleed more profusely. He struggled for breath but it hurt his chest too much. An extreme fatigue was slowly creeping through his whole body, as he started to shut down. All he wanted then was to close his eyes and not open them again. He had failed his brother; again, he wasn't able to bring his father back. His father hated him when he was alive, still hated him when he was dead. Jessica hated him too…tears broke from his eyes and made their way down his nose and temple and collected into a puddle on the ground, beside the pool of his blood. Now he was going to die with the knowledge his brother hated him too for not bringing his father back.

Sam watched that the demon crouched in front him and yanked him up mercilessly by grabbing his collar. A soft grunt came from Sam's mouth but he wasn't able to do anything otherwise. He could see through his blurry vision that the demon licked her lips and hissed, "Time of join us, Boy King!" Sam closed his eyes as the demon grabbed his hair in the back of his head and advanced her mouth…

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A loud thunder suddenly crashed to the ground where they were seated and the whole surrounding was filled with a blazing white light. The light was as white as a blaze of glory that could blind anyone's eyes. The demon flinched visibly in horror and released her hold on Sam again, as the diamond blazing light started to flow like a wave in the sea and threw her at least ten feet away from Sam. The demon screamed in extreme pain as the light pierced through her skin and her eyes started to bleed.

"What's going on? What's going on?" The demon screamed and cried, "This can't be happening. This can't be true." The demon clawed her eyes as they were burning like hell.

The white light made a barrier between the demon and Sam as it started to morph into a form; a human form. Dean and Sam could only see the back of the person, though it was blazing like thousand sparkling diamonds. It was a woman; her long golden hair swaying gently behind her as she stepped forward to the gasping so suddenly defeated demon,

"You, get the heck away from my son." She ordered angrily and held a hand in the air.

Dean's eyes widened in shock, as he watched the white light morph into a woman. He could only breathe a single word, "**MOM**?"

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The demon gasped and screamed in excruciating pain as the white angel 'Mary' held her hand upward and threw the black demon farther away from where Sam was lying. The demon landed hard on the ground and grunted in pain. Suddenly Dean felt himself getting loose from the telekinetic force and dropped to the ground onto his knees. The demon struggled to get up and walk but found she suddenly couldn't move. Something was forcing her to stay. "It's the Devil's Trap, you b*tch…" She moved her heard towards the sound and saw Bobby standing with a book containing incantations to banish demon in his hand, when she looked down…she was bound into the Devil's trap.

"The game's finish, you pathetic creature…" Bobby snarled and started the Latin incantation.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregation_…"

Dean watched his mother as she threw the demon without a blink and saved his little brother. He could hear Bobby was chanting the banishing ritual, but all his concentration was fixed on Mary. He started to get up but he couldn't, it was like his legs were glued to the ground. Mary smiled calmly at him and gestured him to stay where he was. Dean swallowed and sniffed as tears were flowing from his eyes at the sight of his mother.

Mary walked slowly to where Sam was lying. Each of her footsteps was leaving a white blazing footmark on the ground. She was wearing a beautiful white gown and was looking like heaven. There was no nasty slashed stomach bleeding, only a wave of light, a peaceful light, which emanated through her whole body. She crouched beside Sam and cradled her youngest boy in her lap. Sam was watching her through half mast eyes as she caressed his face with such gentleness. She had been waiting for this day for so long, to take her baby boy in her arms, smother him with love, hug him for all eternity. She placed Sam's head in the crook of her left elbow and brushed a loving hand over his bruised face. Sam's lips were trembling, tears leaking from his hazel eyes. He tried to speak but no words came of his mouth. Mary shushed him and pressed a soft hand on his mouth, "Don't speak, Sammy. My baby, my angel. My love."

Sam buried his face into Mary's chest as she continued to sooth him. She wiped the blood flowing from his nose and kissed his cheek. Her right hand draped her son's body like he was a new born baby and all he needed was his mother's essence.

"I missed you mom." Sam croaked with a very weak voice, suddenly starting to feel extremely sleepy. He had his mom now; all he ever wanted in his life had been just for once to know his mother's love. He cried when he felt his mother drape her arms around his body and bury her face in his messy dirty chocolate brown hair. Sam could feel how a tremendous wave of peace and love steadily embrace him. He inhaled his mother's essence and whispered, "I'm scared Mom."

"Don't be, baby." Mary cooed and started to rock her boy like he was a six months old child again, "I'm here now, my baby boy, Sammy everything bad is gone. Nothing can harm you now baby. I am right here." She kissed him again and again on his cheeks and forehead and hugged him; she waited for so long, she wasn't ready to leave her precious boy yet.

Sam relaxed into Mary's embrace as he heard his mother telling him not to worry and closed his eyes. He was finally at peace now, no more hatred, no more tears, no more disgusting words. His mom was here with him now. There's nothing that could hurt him anymore. He could sense darkness calling him and he whispered again, "Mom…?"

"Yes Baby?" Mary asked in a soft hushing tone.

"I haven't slept for a long time, Mom. I want to sleep, Mom, I just want to sleep." Sam's voice started to slur.

Mary smiled lovingly and kissed her boy's hand, "Okay son, you can sleep. I will sing you a song my love. Go to sleep."

_**Go to sleep my baby**__**  
**__**Close your pretty eyes**__**  
**__**Angels up above you**__**  
**__**Peeping at you gently from the skies**__**  
**__**Great big moon is shining**__**  
**__**Stars begin to peep**__**  
**__**Time for little Sammy to go to sleep...**__**  
**__**...very soon little Sammy will be asleep.**__**  
**_

Sam vaguely heard his mother singing a childhood lullaby in a low sweet humming voice and felt as she carded her soft fingers through his thick brown hair, a gesture he always liked, as he allowed himself to drown in the peaceful abyss of darkness.

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Dean watched everything from a little distance and felt his cheeks had become extremely wet for crying. He could see his brother, embraced on his mother's chest as his mom loved his brother like he was her lost son. Dean wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, _**'yes, Sammy deserved this. He is so good. He is so freaking good but all he got was hatred, blood, death, curse when he deserved love, peace, light, hope and every damn good thing.'**_ Dean thought as he looked at his mother. Her head was resting on Sam's. As their eyes met, she smiled and waved a hand to come to her. Dean smiled tightly and crawled to her. When Mary draped her free hand around his neck, all of his emotional barriers broke. He hugged his mother and started to cry bitterly. He nestled his face into Mary's shoulder and cried, "I'm sorry, Mom. Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't look after him properly, mom, I…I am so sorry." He cried and continued his mourning.

Mary rubbed Dean's back as her first born was crying miserably and kissed on his cheek, "I know Dean. I know. But…" Mary's eyes looked sad, "…he is my baby boy, Dean."

Dean looked at the sleeping face of Sammy and cried more, "I know Mom. But I will take care of him better from right now on. I will love him more, more than he wants. Mom…" Dean chuckled between his crying, "…I will take care of him till he gets crazy and starts b*tching."

"Deeeaan. No cussing." Mary smiled and patted her older son lovingly on his cheek.

"Sorry Mom, but I promise, Mom." Dean wiped his tears and backed a little. He spread his both arms and said, "Give him to me, Mom. Give me my Sammy back."

Mary nodded lightly and looked at her baby boy. Sam was looking so peaceful in his sleep. Moonlight was shining over his too innocent face and making him look like an angel. She smiled at the beautiful sight of her son and kissed him for the last time, "I love you Dean, forgive yourself and …take care of your brother Dean."

"You know Mom, I will." Dean smiled with teary eyes.

Mary nodded again and handed her sleeping boy over into Dean's out stretched hands waiting for. As soon Dean got his brother back, he hugged him and pressed a deep kiss on his brown mop. He wouldn't leave Sammy alone again; he wouldn't let him out of sight again…ever. He pulled his brother to his chest and rested his head on the top of Sam's head. He watched as Mary got up and smiled. Suddenly the blazing white light filled the atmosphere again and took his mother with it back to heaven. After the light faded, the blackness once again settled on the earth.

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Bobby watched everything from a distance and secretly wiped his tears. Those boys were special, he knew it; especially Sammy. The boy was so exceptional that's why Mary herself came to rescue him. The demon had been too powerful, they wouldn't have been able to save Sam from it's hold if Mary hadn't showed up. He silently cleaned all the messes up. The host hadn't survived through the demonic assault and banishing ritual. After Bobby finished the exorcism and sent the demon's a** to hell, the girl dropped dead on the ground. They would take care of her later, now his first concern was 'Sammy'.

He walked back to the spot where Dean was sitting with his brother, hugging the sleeping kid to his chest and rocking. He didn't notice that Bobby stood in front of him and unconsciously planted another kiss on Sam's forehead. 'Dean Winchester's kissing his brother, the news flash…' Bobby chuckled and Dean's head shot up.

"If you ever tell him that, I will haunt your a** to hell." Dean threatened him in a murderous tone.

"I didn't say anything…" Bobby held his hands up in a placating manner and crouched, "…how is he by the way?"

"Sleeping."

Bobby frowned as he looked at Sam again. There was too much silence. The storm and rain had stopped a few while ago, now the atmosphere was filled with silence. But this silence was not comfortable. Something was bothering him, something that was not good. Bobby was fidgeting and swallowed nervously.

"What's wrong Bobby?" Dean asked raised his eyebrows. Bobby's behavior started to creep him.

"Nothing. Just…there's too much silence, dontcha' think?" Bobby bit his lower lip. "Can you check your brother once again?"

Dean's eyed widened in horror as he registered his friend's word and pulled Sam from his nestled position. Sam's head rolled on his hand as he pressed his ears near to his brother's nose. He waited…

-

-

-

No breathing sounds came. Dean gasped in horror and screamed…

"Sammy! Bobby, Sammy isn't breathing, Sammy…"

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**TBC**

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**News Flash: The author of this story has been killed by some reviewers, if you need her to resuscitate, just give her a note or review, get the next chapter and then, you can kill her again.**

**Thank You. **


	9. Chapter 9

**BETA: - Medical Thingy+Vonnie= AWESOME**

**Disclaimer: - The song is not mine, but "Sam" is mine, mine and mine. Huh!!**

**A/N:-Wow…wow and WOW… 'm stunned to see how many reviews my story had received for the previous chapter. A huge 'THANK YOU' to all. You know I love you friends.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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**The road is long****  
****With many a winding turn****  
****That leads us to who knows where****  
****Who knows when****  
****But I'm strong****  
****Strong enough to carry him****  
****He ain't heavy, he's my brother.****  
**

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Dean screamed in horror as he noticed his brother wasn't breathing. "Oh God, Oh my God, Sammy…" Dean cried and placed his brother on the ground. He was shaking in fear of loosing his little brother. After everything they had suffered, he couldn't loose his little brother, his Sammy. Tears were spilling from his eyes but he knew he had to do hurry. He had to make Sam breathe. He laid Sam flat on his back and tilted his head, so he could breathe into him properly. Bobby quickly took position beside Sam and placed his both palms crisscrossed on Sam's heart, "Dean, start giving him breaths, I'll start compression." Dean quickly nodded in anticipation and pinched Sam's nose. He forced Sam's unresponsive mouth open and placed his mouth on his, giving him two quick breaths. He watched as Sam's chest rose and fell with each life saving breath he had been given then checked for a pulse. Wiping his tears when he found none, he gave the signal, at which Bobby immediately started compressions. Dean could hear Bobby muttering, "one…two…three…." Dean looked again at his unresponsive brother and his eyes burned again by hot tears. God, Sammy was looking so pale, so dead like. _**'No no no no no, Sammy can't be dead. Not after everything**_**…'** Dean screamed in his head and brushed a hand over Sam's clammy forehead. "…nine…ten…eleven…" Dean placed a shaking hand over Sam's carotid artery and felt his pulse was beating, but only with the rhythm of the compressions. He jolted back as he heard Bobby muttered 'thirty' and again blew two breaths into Sam's mouth, yet still the kid wasn't breathing on his own. He continued to lie there like a broken rag doll and didn't respond to anything in the living world.

"Bobby…" Dean cried, "…Sammy still isn't breathing Bobby. He's still not breathing. What're we gonna do Bobby." Dean was crying like a small boy. He didn't care if Bobby saw him crying, the 'super-macho Dean Winchester' was crying desperately; not when his little brother's life was hanging in a thread.

"Don't give up on our Sam, Dean. Keep trying…" Bobby yelled, all the while continuing compressions.

Dean looked at his watch; it's been almost two minutes Sam took a breath. Dean looked at him again and his heart broke again with immense pain; a pain of fear, fear of loosing his brother. Oh God. Sammy was lying there helplessly; mouth parted open slightly, eyes hidden under its lids; his hands were jerking slightly with the compression Bobby was giving. His pink lips were forming a hue of light blue as well as his eyelids and fingertips from the lack of oxygen. "Please Sammy, c'mon. Don't do this to me little brother; don't you do this to me. Please, please, please, come back to me, Sammy! Sammy, please." Dean was begging his heart out. He leaned closed to his brother's mouth, hoping to have to hear something, anything. "Nooo, please…" He cried, "Please, God…"

"Dean, breathe for him."

Dean gave him another two breaths, but it was taking so long. Dean knew if it continued any longer, Sammy wouldn't survive. He would be brain dead, hell; he would be dead, period. He gritted his teeth and punched on the ground in frustration. Suddenly he shoved Bobby hard from his position and took his place.

"What the hell?" Bobby muttered as he was thrust away by Dean and fell on his bottom, until he saw Dean took his position and started compression. Pressing his lips together tight, he nodded in satisfaction. Now Sam had to come back. Sam had to at any cost.

Dean pushed his palms down firmly on Sam's chest and counted, "Don't you dare…two…three…leave us you little b*tch…six…seven…" he pressed harder, "…mom came for you…nine…ten…she came for you and now you're giving up…thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…come back…right now… or I…will kick…your butt…twenty one…twenty two…twenty three…damn it Sammy…I order you…to open…your eyes…right now…and breath…thirty" Again he gave him a breath and gasped, "…for mom Sammy…" he punched hard on his chest again, "…come back…you bastard…five…six…fight Sammy…God damn it **FIGHT**!"

Without warning Sam's back arched up and he heaved in a large gulp of air. Dean scrambled to pick his upper body up and pull his brother against his chest, "Oh thank God, thank God…" He heard Sam was taking in painfully small rugged breaths, but it sounded better than nothing to Dean. Sammy was breathing without help; those gasping sounds filled Dean's ears like it was most beautiful song he ever heard. He pressed one deep kiss on his brother's forehead and murmured, "Thank you God, thank you so much." He began to rock his brother, a gesture he always used, when he was scared for Sammy. Whenever Sammy got sick or hurt, he always rocked him, more to console himself then his sibling.

He looked at his brother's face again. Sam remained unconscious. His head was resting on Dean's chest and he was taking shallow harsh breath. His lips no longer showed the horrible shade of blue, yet there was still a faint tint of cyanosis to them. Dean carded his hands over and over through his brother's thick chocolate brown mop and inhaled his brother's scent, Sammy's scent; Dean smiled. His brother always smelled sweet, like his mother. Didn't matter if he got into dirty places, crappy motel rooms, chip commodities, he always smelled good. Sam was his mother's shadow; Dean chuckled at the thought, "I knew, you're a girl, Sammy," he mumbled and buried his nose into Sam's hair.

Dean startled as Bobby's heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up and met his friend's calm eyes. He smiled tightly, "He's alive Bobby …Sammy is alive. He didn't leave me." Tears of happiness were still flowing from his eyes, landing on Sam's forehead.

"I know Dean; I knew he wouldn't leave you." Bobby placed a hand over Sam's chest and looked upward, like he was thanking to God for giving them back their precious child. He collected himself and said, "But we have to take him to the hospital, Dean. We can't delay any longer, or we could risk his life."

"Yeah, I know." Dean nodded and repositioned himself for the next difficult step. Sammy was bleeding from his nose, so a fireman carry was out of question. Instead he placed Sam's right hand over his shoulder and adjusted him to his chest. He then snaked his left arm behind Sam's back and put another under his knees. Then with a soft grunt he heaved his brother up from the ground staggering slightly backward.

Bobby rose up quickly and supported his young friend as he staggered with his heavy burden. He couldn't risk Sam falling to the ground. The last thing the kid needed was a head injury on top of what he already suffered. He knew that Sam had lost a good amount of weight, yet still he wasn't feather light. With his height and figure, it was slightly difficult to carry him bridal style. He clamped a hand on Dean's shoulder and said, "Dean, let me help you carry your brother."

Dean looked at him with incredible sadness in his teary eyes and then glanced back at his unconscious sibling. He swallowed as his voice broke, "**He ain't heavy, he's my Brother**…Bobby."

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For a couple of seconds Bobby stared at Dean then pinched the bridge of his nose to wipe a tear away, which was forming in his eyes_**. 'God, this boy's sure gonna turn me into an emo b*tch' **_he thought and chuckled. He knew once Dean settled his mind on something, he wouldn't let anybody talk him out of it and it was even more impossible, when it involved his little brother. So he quickly nodded, "Kay then, you go and put him in the car, I'm coming after you. I just have to pick up the things we left here."

"Okay." Dean nodded and started to walk to where the car was parked. It was five or six minutes walking distance; they had to park the car this far away because they didn't want to warn the demon that they were coming. He clutched his senseless brother tightly to his chest and quickened his pace. Sammy was hanging limply between his hands; head lolling with each jolt, his hand swaying lightly as Dean carried him as quick as he could. Dean chocked a sob back at the sight of his seriously ill brother, God; this was all his fault. If it wasn't for his selfishness, his so called f****** grief, Sammy wouldn't have made this drastic decision. He wouldn't be this hurt right now. They would be at home by now, swigging beer, playing pool, cracking jokes…Dean bit his lips hard as a cry started to bubble up inside throat…if their mother hadn't showed up in time, Sam would have died by now. Dean shook his head again and blinked back his tears. He took a deep breath as he watched Bobby jog up and join him with their equipment. They could see the car parked haphazardly in the middle of the road, front doors wide open. Bobby went to the car and opened the back door, before Dean lowered an unconscious Sam and with his help gently laid him on the leather seats. Bobby quickly placed a blanket on Sam's violently shivering form as Dean bent his long legs to fit the seat. "Bobby, start the car," he almost ordered, at the same time as he positioned himself on the footboard and placed his hand on his brother's chest so he wouldn't fall off.

Bobby quickly closed the back door and got into the driver's seat. He revved the car and headed towards the exit of this no man's land. They had to reach the hospital as quickly as possible. He could hear Sam's breathing was getting more labored, as there was a gap of over three seconds in between each of his respirations. He looked at the rear-view mirror and saw Dean was continuously soothing his brother, begging him to wake up. But Sam wasn't responding to anything, he only persisted to shiver and wheeze horribly.

"Bobby, how far are we from hospital?" Dean's fear filled voice startled him.

"About thirty five minutes or so. I'm taking the shot-cut. Why?" Bobby asked without averting his eyes from the road.

"His fever is back with full rage Bobby." Dean's voice was trembling, "He is burning up…**OH MY GOD SAM**…"

Dean's horror filled screams chilled Bobby's blood as he slammed the break of the car. The car stopped abruptly and he screwed his head towards backseat. His eyes widened in horror as he saw Sam was gasping severely. He was chocking and a terrified wheezing sound was coming from his congested throat.

"Sam, Sammy it's okay. Calm down buddy…" Dean tried to calm his him down as he massaged his brother's chest lightly. Sam's back was arching up painfully as he was taking each wheezing breath. His face becoming redder from the extreme exertion and lips once again turning blue, "Bobby, what's happening to him?"

"Looks like he's having an asthma attack." Bobby barked and scrambled out through the driver's door. He wrenched opened the back door and cried, "Place him upright so he can breathe easily."

Dean already put his hands under Sam's armpit and heaved him upward into a sitting position. Sliding into the seat beside him, he let the younger man's head gently rest against his own. He watched Sam's chest rise and fall at a constantly increasing pace, as the chocking sounds were getting more severe. "What we gonna do Bobby? He is chocking, he's not gonna make it that far if he can't breathe." Dean cried miserably as he continued to rub Sam's chest. The blue hue of Sam's lips and eyelids was getting deeper with each passing moment.

"Wait…" Bobby voice trembled as he fumbled his jacket's pocket, "I think I found something." He retrieved the small cylinder of Albuterol from his jacket's pocket and handed it to Dean. Dean almost snatched the inhaler from Bobby's hand and quickly forced open Sam's mouth to place the inhaler. Making sure his brother's mouth was closed around the small appliance, he timed the exact moment when the kid took in another struggling breath and pushed down on the inhaler. Waiting for a moment, he repeated the process a second time, observing with anxiety, as the medication entered into Sam's constricted airways and hopefully opened them up again. After some time Sam's fight for air seemed to be abate somewhat and his respirations became slightly more even. He didn't regain consciousness through the massive attack, but at least hopefully that meant, wouldn't remember the pain either…again.

Dean fell back against the window and closed his eyes in extreme exhaustion. He almost lost his brother for a second time today. If they didn't have the inhaler, Sam would have…speaking of inhaler, Dean opened his eyes to see that Bobby had taken his position behind the wheel once again. Dean supported Sam again, this time by slinging his arm around him and started to rub his chest again, "Well, when did you put his inhaler in your pocket, Bobby?"

"At home, when we found out that Sam's missing, I took his inhaler cuz I knew, people who has a problem like asthma, they should always have their inhaler with them, twenty four/seven. And I knew that the frigging rainstorm wasn't gonna help Sam. So I kept it." Bobby answered and grumbled under his teeth, "I don't know about Sammy, but if he keeps continuing this, I will sure die in a heart attack."

Dean sighed in relief and placed a trembling hand on his weary forehead. '_**Oh God, if Bobby hadn't taken the inhaler, Sammy could've…' **_he put his palm on his brother's too hot forehead and sighed again, _**'Man, this is getting better and better.' **_Leaning his brother against the seat, he shrugged his jacket off and stripped his outer flannel shirt. Ripping his shirt into pieced to make a bandana he drenched it with cool water from a bottle he found on the floor. He squeezed some of the water out and placed it on Sam's burning forehead. He had to keep Sam's fever down, it way too high. "How far are we now?" He asked as he drenched another piece of cloth with the water and bathed Sammy's face, neck, upper chest to cool his body down. God, it was his favorite shirt, but for Sammy, nothing was important. He would give everything even his life in a heart beat if it meant Sammy would be okay. He swallowed hard as he couldn't get the nose bleed to slow down; wiping the blood with the wet wash cloth, he felt the rapid rise and fall of Sam's chest. _**'Oh God, please, give the kid a freaking break, wouldja'?'**_ He thought wryly as he heard Bobby's reply, "Not far, we're just getting there." He answered as he noticed the blue neon light indicating that they reached town.

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It was almost two in the morning, so there was a casual atmosphere at St. Luke hospital. There were a few relatives of emergency patient sitting around; but otherwise the ambiance was cool. Usually people don't come to visit the hospital this late, unless they were dying or massively injured. There were some nurses chatting with their colleagues and a receptionist idly writing something. Dr. Grant was getting ready to leave, as his duty hours were almost over. He was writing something on the clipboard covered with pages of paper, when heard the loud screech of a car coming to a sudden halt outside the emergency entrance. _**'What was that,'**_ he frowned and walked towards the main door, when it burst open and two men with an unconscious kid hanging in one's arms tear into the emergency room.

"Help, we need help here." The man who was cradling the young kid in his arms barked in an expressive authoritative tone and staggered towards him. Dr. Grant strode to the man and placed a hand on kid's forehead, _**'Jeez, the kid's burning up,'**_ he thought, "What happened?" he asked and barked an order, "I need a gurney over here, STAT."

The younger man, who looked like the kid's brother or friend answered, "My brother, he…he had a bad fever since the morning. But tonight after dinner, he was having some real nasty asthma attack and his nose started to bleed…" The older boy placed the younger one onto the gurney and looked at the physician. Getting a nod to continue, the older boy hesitated for some mere seconds before going on, "…he…ah… passed out then and now won't wake up." Starting to assess the kid, the physician took in the short gasping breaths, combined with the loud wheezing sounds and the cyanosis to his lips and nail beds.

He gave the younger man a nod then ordered to a nurse, "The kid is status asthmaticus, start him on 500 mg theophylline and Solumedrol 200 mg per IV stat." They already started to roll the gurney towards the emergency treatment room and continued their jargons, "How's his BP?"

"140 over 90"

"And?" The doctor started to assess the kid on his chest by a stethoscope.

"Oxygen level is getting low. Kid's tachycardic."

"Okay, start him on O2 at 10 l per mask, keep an intubation kit ready, we might have to use it and hang 1000cc normal saline wide open. He is severely dehydrated. I need respiratory therapy down here stat, so they can start treatments with Albuterol 2.5% and Ipratropium 0.2% per nebulizer." The doctor turned around as kid's brother and the older man followed him almost into the emergency hall. The big brother was clutching his little brother's fingers tightly in his hand like he wouldn't let it go at any cost. The doctor said with an expressionless voice, "Mr…"

"Pratt. But you can call me Dean. He is my little brother Sam." The young man answered.

Dr. Grant nodded and continued, "Mr. Pratt, Dean, you have to stay here when we will be assessing your brother."

"But I wanna be with him. He will be scared." Dean cried petulantly as he clutched his brother's hand more tightly.

The doctor smiled professionally and patted the young man's shoulder, "Dean please, you have to let us do our job, if you want Sam gets necessary treatment right now... I can understand your situation. Why don't you sit down and wait until we finished our treatment? You can fill up the admission forms during this time."

"But…"

"Dean…" This time Bobby interrupted, "…don't be a baby. Let them help Sammy, okay!" He nodded at the doctor, "You can proceed, doc. I will take care of him."

The doctor nodded thankfully to the older man appreciatively and vanished behind the emergency door with Sam's gurney.

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Dean was pacing anxiously on the white linoleum floor chewing his finger nails. It was almost dawn; Sammy had disappeared behind the door almost three hours ago. Dean brought his hand back up on his head and rubbed wearily. The exhaustion was taking a toll on him; the previous day had been rough and the night…, _**'Oh God, don't ask'**_. Dean sighed and brushed his right hand over his face, wiping off the sweat and dirt, he looked at Bobby. The grizzled hunter was sitting on one of the hard plastic hospital chairs, sometimes nodding off until something jolted him awake; he looked 'funny' but Dean wasn't in any mood to laugh. God only knew how Sammy's doing? Dean again paced agitatedly to the front desk and asked for the fifty first time how Sam Pratt was doing. But as usual, the professional receptionist answered the same as she always did. Dean wanted to punch something, wanted to make a hole in the barrier between him and his brother, burst in the emergency room and hold his brother to his chest. He wanted to do something, anything. He gritted his teeth and punched the wall…

"**SH*T**!"

Bobby jerked awake from his doze and blinked rapidly as he heard Dean's erratic curse. He was obviously going out of his mind and ready do something crazy. Bobby stood up from the chair and took a hold of his neck angrily,

"Dean, would you sit down or I'll have to hogtie you. You're driving me nuts."

Dean stopped and stared incredulously at Bobby for couple of moments, like the older man suddenly had three heads growing on his neck. Without warning he barked, "That's my brother being trapped in that freaking room for three goddamned hours, ring any bells, Bobby! Do you think we should sit down crisscross our legs and start making up jingles?"

"You mind your tone, when you're talking to me boy, or I will kick you're a** out of this hospital." Bobby gritted his teeth and growled, not wanting to shout because of the risk of getting themselves thrown out of the waiting area. He knew Dean was beyond nervous and it was normal, but if he couldn't control himself, he would only make things worse. "Dean, Sammy's being treated in there and if we interrupt, Sam could die." Bobby didn't want to play the 'Sam Card' on Dean but he knew this was only solution for this situation at the moment.

Dean seemed to understand what he was saying and calmed down a little. He slumped down on the hard plastic chair and sighed heavily, "I'm scared Bobby. It's been three hours and we haven't heard any news about Sammy. Bobby, he didn't even regain consciousness when we brought him here. What if something bad is happening with him, what if Sammy…" Dean's eyes again filled with unshed tears.

Bobby patted his back soothingly, "Don't think negatively Dean, nothing bad's gonna happen with Sammy. He is strong Dean, he is a Winchester."

"I know Bobby, but what he suffered…" Dean bit his trembling lower lip and looked away from his friend, "…after what I did to him…" he couldn't finish his words as tears were flowing again from his eyes.

"No Dean, No. You're not to blame…" Bobby tried to console him, but backed away a little when Dean abruptly got up and cried,

"Then who to blame, Bobby? It was me who pushed him away. It was me who blamed him for dad's death. I made him cry Bobby, I f****** made my little brother cry, when I swore to myself to protect him, to make him happy every goddamned day, too make him…" Dean turned away from Bobby and faced the white wall to wipe his tears away.

Bobby opened his mouth to say something but interrupted by another voice, "Dean?"

Dean spun toward the doctor and strode anxiously towards him and breathed, "How is my brother doc, how's Sam?"

"Well, come to my office and I will explain everything to you." Dr. Grant informed.

Dean's legs were shaking, he knew something was wrong. Something was very very wrong as he could read it to see the doctor's face. His voice quivered, "No, tell me here. How's my brother?"

"Well, if you insist…" The doctor started grimly, "…there were some complication during surgery…"

"Surgery?" Dean's eyes widened in horror as he heard the news. He felt Bobby was standing behind him for support but his mind was swirling.

"Yes, we had to do an emergency surgery on your brother, and, I am sorry your brother…"

"Noooooo Sammy…"

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**TBC**

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**Weeeeeelll…Major Cliffy…again!! I'm Evil I know…sooo, what do you dudes wanna do with me right now? Kill me or let me breathe? Let me know what you all think about this chapter. Drop a review and let me know your actions or re-actions.**

**Love**

**Ritu.**


	10. Chapter 10

**BETA: - A huge thanks To Vonnie, Thank You—Didi!!**

**A/N: - Thanks a lot to everyone who read and reviewed my story previously. I appreciate each of them. Your words and encouragement just made me write faster. You all are AWESOME.**

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**WHITE LIGHT**

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Dean felt his head was swimming as he heard doctor say his brother… _**'No no no no, this can't be true. Sammy can't die…'**_Dean was screaming, he didn't realize that he grabbed doctor's collar, "Noooo, no, Sammy can't die. You hear me you son of a b*tch? My brother can't die…"

The doctor staggered as the clearly disoriented young man suddenly lurched at him and started screaming. He knew he had made a mistake by choosing wrong words at wrong time. He tried to free himself from Dean's massive paws and stammered, "Dean, Mr. Dean, please, listen to me…ah…" He looked beseechingly at Bobby and continued, "…you misunderstood me…Sam's alive, your brother's alive…now let me go…"

'_**Oh thank God'**_ Bobby heaved a sigh of relief and tried to release the poor doctor from Dean's death hold. Dean still seemed to not listen to or notice anything around him, he was panting hard; like he was having some sort of panic attack. Tears were breaking from his eyes as he was mumbling incoherently about Sammy's dying. Bobby grasped his hands tightly and forcefully pried the young man off the doctor. "Dean, listen to me, Sam is alive…" Dean looked at him incoherently "…**SAM IS ALIVE DEAN**…" Bobby barked and smiled tightly as the recognition started to show in Dean's teary orbs.

"Sammy's alive?" Dean asked shockingly, he still couldn't believe in this sudden fortunate turn of events.

"Yes, Dean. Sam's alive. He didn't leave you. Now sit and calm down, okay!" Bobby maneuvered the shaking young man to the chair and growled at the doctor quite frustrated, "You shouldn't have used those awful words on him doc. Sam is his **BROTHER** for god's sake." He rubbed Dean's back soothingly and murmured, "…It's okay Dean, Sam's okay. Now take a deep breath, boy. It's okay!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used those words, I…actually…was so concerned about Sam's condition and just couldn't think how to explain…" The doctor was rambling.

Dean hung his head low for couple of minutes and took some really deep breaths. He still was feeling lightheaded. Man, this news…he looked at the doctor venomously and Dr. Grant shrunk even more than he already did. Dean rubbed his hand over his spiked hair and cleared his throat. He still couldn't find his words, for a while he'd thought…, _when he thought Sam had died_, he world had shattered into a million pieces. He couldn't loose Sam, he wouldn't loose his Sammy. Dean shook his head and asked in a raspy voice, "So, what's happened to my brother?"

The doctor swallowed nervously before continuing, "I…ah…your brother had been suffering from an acute case of rhino sinusitis plus he had a severe case of asthma. When he was brought in he was tachycardic. We had to do an emergency sinus surgery for his acute sinusitis, but his pressure was too high…" The doctor stopped for a moment as he heard a sharp gasp coming from Dean's mouth as his eyes widened in horror, the kind doctor felt sympathetic for the brother and swallowed, "…and he was bleeding from his nose quite severely, it was a touch and go for a while but we succeeded somehow and were able to remove the mucus that clogged his sinus and nasal passages…"

"Aaand…" Dean knew something bad was coming on his way.

"His airways are still constricted due to the asthma attack…so…ah…we had to keep the ventilator in after surgery…"

"Ohmigod…" Dean slapped his forehead with utter defeat. His lower lip was trembling as couldn't suppress his tears. No, he didn't want to hold back his cries; he wanted to cry…if that made Sammy come back from his downhill slide, he would do it. His shoulders were heaving, as muffled sobs broke in the empty waiting room. _**'Sammy's intubated, a frigging tube is forced down his throat. Sammy can't breathe again without help…Sammy will…'**_ Dean felt Bobby's consoling hand tapping soothingly on his back and speaking something like 'you have to control yourself; you can't help your brother if you give up…Sam needs you…' Dean sniffled and wiped his tears away, "Will my brother be alright?" He asked hoarsely.

The doctor shifted slightly and rubbed a weary hand over his face. It was a long night. His duty hours were over a long time ago, but he just couldn't leave the kid, he suffering so much. Sure there were many other efficient doctors, but it was him who saw that poor kid cradled in his brother's arms, unconscious, barely breathing at all, he couldn't stop but feel an intense emotion flowing through him. The look of the older brother told without speaking a word just how much he loved his little brother. And the sick younger one, the doctor sighed, he was barely an adult. He could tell that the boy wasn't more than early twenties, but he looked more boyish than he really was. His innocent face, shaggy curly hairs flopping all over his forehead, sharp features, was telling him that boy was nothing, if not something special. He felt a closeness to this boy. He didn't even mind when his older brother jumped all over him and cursed him; he knew what it felt like when someone so close was lying helplessly on a hospital bed…unconscious…and there wasn't anything they do for their beloved one.

"Well, it's too early to tell. The main thing is concerning me right now, is his blood pressure. It's much too high. His CAT scan report is showing that he is also suffering from an Aneurysm, a weakness in one of the blood vessels supplying the brain in layman's term…" Dean blinked dumbly as the Doctor continued his explanation about his brother's condition, "…and extreme pressure caused it to burst, causing the stroke he suffered…"

"Stroke?" Dean legs were trembling so hard, if he weren't seated, he would've collapsed, "…c'mon, that's not possible. Sam can't have the freaking stroke or something…" he looked at Bobby whose face was crestfallen too upon hearing this awful news about their youngest, "…he's only twenty three for Pete's sake…" Dean was trying to prove the doctor diagnosis wrong somehow. He just couldn't believe Sam could have suffered that much. _**'C'mon, stroke!'**_Dean clamped his mouth with his both hand, God, he was so tired. He just couldn't handle more, please, no more.

"That doesn't matter, Dean. Anyone at any age can suffer from a stroke. About Sam's condition, it's quite common. Sam was suffering from an extreme case of sinusitis and I can assume that he didn't get himself checked up for a long time. A sinusitis is a minor illness, but if you leave it unchecked for days, even weeks, it can trigger an asthma attack, from which Sam was already suffering for a while, aneurysms in brain and sinuses combined with high pressure can cause bad nose bleed and also can lead to a stroke if the vessel is located in the brain." The doctor panted after talking so much at once.

Dean just nodded; he couldn't find the words to speak. His brother, his little brother had been suffering so much for a long while and he didn't even notice. _**'What a big brother I am'**_ Dean thought wryly and averted his gaze away from the doctor. Sammy was having strokes; he had been hiding those from his brother who had been oblivious from his surrounding. Dean could see in his mind that Sam was grabbing his head in utter pain, face contorted, barely holding on to consciousness…but Dean ignored him. He knew his brother lost consciousness a couple of times, even in Butch's diner, Lucy told him about his brother's health condition but what he did was shove him, calling him bastard, lousy…_**'Stroke, you bastard! Your brother was suffering from a stroke and you…'**_ His mind was screaming out loud. Dean gritted his teeth and punched the arm rest of the chair so hard, he almost broke it. The doctor flinched at Dean's reaction but didn't say anything.

Dean startled when the doctor's consoling hand landed lightly on his shoulder and he looked up at him. Tears made his vision bleary, but he tried to concentrate anyway. Once he was settled the doctor softly spoke, "Dean, can I ask you something?"

"Wh…what?"

"Was your brother involved in some kind of accident before?" The doctor questioned.

"Yea, about a month ago or so. We all had an accident, my father died…" Dean swallowed, "…I…I got healed somehow, but…" Dean was thinking hard, "…Sammy wasn't hurt. He got out from the crash unscathed. He wasn't even admitted to the hospital for a day." Dean was now getting worried again, _**'Oh God, did I miss something then!'**_

"Well…" The doctor cocked his head from side to side, "…you can't tell that. When you said you all had gotten hurt in that accident, you father even died, how would you think your brother left unscathed?"

"What?"

"I checked Sam thoroughly and his x-ray shows that he has several bruised ribs, and also a healing concussion. I assume, during that accident, he must have inhaled a vast amount of smoke with a major amount of dirt and tiny fragments that would have triggered his sinusitis and also an aggravated his asthma. And the bruised ribs also helped to constrict his airways more severely. Sam should've gotten himself a follow up after the accident." The doctor informed Dean with such pitiful voice.

"I knew that something was wrong with that boy. Stupid damn jar-headed boy." This time it was Bobby blurting out. He was feeling that he somehow failed to look after John's boys, his youngest boy who was the 'baby' of their gruff hunter family. He felt responsible for the critical condition of the youngest Winchester. What would he tell John and Mary if something happened to Sam?

Dean got up from his seated position and straightened himself. He couldn't loose himself now; he had to be strong for his brother. He cleared his throat and asked more steadily, "What are his chances?"

"Well, it's too early to say. But he is young and strong, if we get the blood pressure under control and if there are no more complications; he should be fine."

"Can I see him?" Dean swallowed.

"Yes. He has been settled into the ICU so we can monitor him closely. He is in room 62. Come with me and I will show you the way."

Dean looked at Bobby with teary eyes and sniffled. Bobby nodded in anticipation and they started to follow the doctor. Sam's ICU room was on the sixth floor. As they entered into the elevator, Dean's heart rate started to beat fast. God knew what he was going to see there, he wasn't quite ready to see Sam in an ICU room again. Yes, Sammy had been admitted to hospitals and even ICU's many times before, but this time…Dean pressed his lips together and made a thin line…this time he was the reason, he put his little brother into such a dangerous condition. As the elevator came to a halt on the sixth floor, he swallowed convulsively and rubbed his hand all over his face to wipe tears, dirt, anxiety, pain and everything else away.

"This way." The kind doctor informed.

Dean and Bobby looked at each other for a mere second and then followed the doctor into the ICU room where his little brother was lying helplessly, sick, unconscious and broken.

* * *

Dean pushed the heavy glass door open and entered into Sam's ICU room. The room was in semi darkness, some dim lights illuminating the whole silent, peaceful room. There was a bed in the middle of the room on which Sam was lying. The golden pink light of dawn was spreading all over the room from the glass window, and a ray was gliding over Sam's pale face, making it a bit colorful.

Dean slowly went to the side of Sam's bed and looked at his brother silently. Sam was lying on the pale blue sheet, pale blue blanket draped lightly around his torso; covering from his lower chest to feet. Head slightly bend towards Dean's side; one third of the bed was tilted upward, so he could breathe easily, though he wasn't able to breathe without help. The side rails on both sides of the bed were locked in the upright position for the patient's safety; there was a heart monitor beeping monotonously, indicating that his brother was still alive. Dean swallowed a sob that was forming furiously inside his throat; he wasn't ready to see his little brother so ill, so vulnerable. A blood pressure cuff was draped around his left bicep, Sam practically looked smaller on the hospital bed accompanied by all those wired machines and other things. He brushed one of his clammy hands over Sam's forehead, flinched as the scorching heat almost burned his palm. His eyes were darting from the top to the bottom of his brother, trying to register the significance of the machines and wires that were attached to his little brother. His brother was looking like some dismantled robot, who someone tried to resurrect with mechanical tubes and machines.

There were several IV lines protruding from both of Sam's hands, giving him life saving drugs. Three cords attached to the heart monitor were hidden by Sam's blue hospital tee shirt. There were many wires, _god, so many wires;_ Dean didn't even know what they were doing, peeking through his tee. God, he hated wires. There was a pulse oximeter clipped onto Sam's right hand's index finger, to monitor his oxygen level. There were two cotton balls placed under his nostrils, to prevent the nose bleed but those were almost saturated with penetrating blood, Dean grimaced in sympathy. But the most unnerving thing was the ventilator; Dean shuddered at the sight, a large white tube extended from his brother's mouth, ending in a white valve. Two corrugated tubes trailed from the valve to the ventilator on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. A long strip of white tape wound around the tube, holding it in the corner of Sam's mouth, the ends of the tape stretching across his face almost to the corners of his jaw. Dean touched the corner of Sam's lower lip, careful not to jar the tube and rubbed his thumb lightly over it. His brother's chest rose and fell steadily with the soft whoosh and click of the ventilator, clearly showing that his brother was at least getting air.

Dean sat heavily onto the blue plastic hospital chair beside Sam's bed and held his head with his hand. His elbow was resting on the mattress and his other hand was clutching his brother's fingers tightly. Dean sighed, "He is so pale."

"Ahh, yes he is. He had suffered way too much and the exertions are taking toll on him." Dr. Grant informed, "But with the medicine and breathing support we are giving him, we hope he will be alright soon."

Dean nodded tiredly at the doctor's assurance and rubbed his thumb over Sam's hand. Bobby was leaning on Sam from the other side of the bed, attempting to calculate the various tubes draped mercilessly over the young man. He brushed some wayward brown curls from Sam's eyebrows and asked, "Is he in a coma?"

Dean nervously looked at Bobby at hearing such awful words and then moved his gaze to the doctor. His heart was beating fast, _**'no God, please, not a coma…'**_ he was praying fast and startled when doctors voices entered into his mind.

"Fortunately no." The doctor smiled and wrote something down on Sam's chart, "…but he is deeply unconscious from the heavy sedation. But don't worry, once he starts breathing without struggling, we will reduce the sedative and remove the ventilator."

"Oh thank God…" Dean and Bobby both spoke in unison. A heavy load was removed from their weary shoulder. Dean closed his eyes for some seconds in relief and held Sam's hand to his cheek.

"He is too warm." Dean softly told, not removing his gaze from his sleeping sibling's face.

The doctor walked to Sam's bed and adjusted Sam's IV, checked his heart rate and nodded in satisfaction, "Yes, that is a matter of concern. His fever is too high, but you can expect a high grade fever with acute sinusitis and asthma, not to mention he was soaked through by the rain before arriving."

Dean just nodded but didn't ask anything. _**'God, the doctor doesn't know what has happened before I brought my brother in here. That was the most awful day ever.'**_ Dean thought and continued to card his fingers in Sam's thick mop.

"Is there anything you want to ask?" The doctor asked.

"Not really."

"Okay then…" The doctor placed the chart board at Sam's bed's footboard and moved to the door, "If you need something, press the call button. I will check on him in about an hour or so."

"Thanks." This time Bobby answered. Dean was too engrossed in soothing his little brother.

The doctor smiled and muttered a 'you're welcome' and exited from the room.

Bobby heaved a sigh out heavily and turned to Dean, "It's gonna be a long day, don't you think."

"Yeahhh…" Dean was so tired, "…I know."

"Wanna grab some food, boy? You didn't eat anything since last night." Bobby knew what would be Dean's answered but he tried to make the young man eat something anyway.

Dean stared at Sam's intubated senseless face for a moment and sniffled. _**'God, Sammy, please wake up baby brother! I just can't see you like this…'**_ thousand emotions were flooding into his brain. When he felt Bobby's hand nudging him and asking him to eat something again, he bowed his head and rasped, "Sammy hasn't eaten anything since God knows when." He let his hand glide over Sam's cheek and whispered, "…how could I eat anything when he isn't able to breathe without a damn tube…Bobby?" He looked at Bobby as a lonely tear spilled from his eye, "He is my brother, Bobby. He is my life, and I won't take anything until Sam's awake."

Bobby knew it was useless to argue with the stubborn Winchester boy, but he decided to let it go for now. He patted Sam's shoulder lightly and muttered, "I will be downstairs and be back in a couple of hours. Then I will drag your a** to the café and if you fidget, I will hogtie you and force the food down your throat." After this straight threat, Bobby got up from his bent position and left the stunned older brother for some privacy with his unaware little brother.

* * *

"C'mon Sammy wake up, wouldja?" Dean was trying to wake his brother from his peaceful oblivion. It was already forty two hours since Sam had been admitted. After some heavy duty medication and breathing treatments, Sam was slowly showing some improvement. The ventilator was still attached to his throat, but Dr. Grant assured him, once Sam was awake, they would wean it off. He still was running a fever, but it was not as high as before. Dean massaged his head hard for some seconds and stifled several large yawns. God, he was bone tired. Sure, he had eaten something, actually Bobby…Dean snickered as his eyes fell on the sleeping grumpy hunter and muttered some silent curse to him…had forced some food down his throat just as he'd threatened. But he knew that he had to keep himself steady, or else, he wouldn't able to take care for his baby brother at all. His brother; once he was awake would be totally dependent on him and god honest, Dean was ready to give this duty his full attention.

"C'mon princess, wake up. Open those pretty green eyes of yours." Dean teased good naturedly, "The nurses in here are driving me nuts, ya know. They are saying that your eyes have to be more beautiful than mine." He rubbed his brother's hand and coaxed, "Wake up and prove to them how wrong they are."

Sam lay perfectly still. The only response was the whoosh and click of the ventilator.

Dean pinched his lips with his thumb and forefinger and blew a heavy breathe. The doctor assured him that Sam would regain consciousness soon, but it was taking too long. He looked at the clock; it was showing 3 am in the morning. He had not slept for two day straight; yes, he sure had taken a few naps, resting his head on Sam's bed but it wasn't enough. His eyes were stinging, he was hardly able to keep them open and knew he would have to rest soon, but he wasn't ready to go for sleep now. He had to stay awake for Sammy. What if Sammy awoke and freaked out or what if he was trapped in the dream world of one of his nightmares? Dean shook his head and cleared his throat. His voice was broken from the constant one sided conversations, he had tried to stop, but the thought of him stopping to talk and Sam assuming he had left him again and relapsing into deep unconsciousness again, made him shudder and start again with a practically non-existing voice,

"Sammy, if you wake up I will give you the impala for a month." Dean quirked his eyebrows hearing his own voice. _**'Eww, my voice sounds like a donkey singing in the rain'**_ he scrunched his nose, hoping to see his brother awake upon hearing such an awful voice and start laughing. God, he missed his dimpled smile and infectious laughter.

"Are you laughing Sammy boy? Okay, no more fingers crossed this time…" Dean tried again, "…I will let you choose your crappy girly music for a month, alright! Promise."

It was a mirage or something but Dean felt Sammy's fingers twitched slightly.

Dean hurriedly leaned over Sam's face and measured for any change. But Sam's eyes were still tightly shut. Dean grabbed his brother's hand into his own hands and sat on the mattress.

"Sammy, Sam! Can you hear me, Sammy! Wake up, brother. You've been sleeping for a year Cinderella. Now it's time to join with your prince charming." Dean was rambling nonsense. But this time he was rewarded by Sam's head lolling slightly his way. His eyeballs were rolling behind is closed lids.

Dean almost jumped in utter joy. His brother was waking up, after so many hours, the most painful hours in Dean's life; Sammy had finally decided to join the living. Dean rubbed his brother's hand more urgently and leaned into his personal space, but he didn't care. His only concern was to wake his brother up right then, every frigging other thing in the whole world could wait.

"That's it, that's it Sammy, you're almost there…" Dean's voice was getting even scratchier with over emotion, tears were threatening to fall but he held it somehow. Sam's long fingers grasped lightly around his, Dean smiled and looked at them, but suddenly jerked alert when a chocking and gagging sound filled the peaceful hospital room. He saw that Sammy's eyes were wide open and he was chocking on the ET tube. His orbs were rolling bewilderedly, as he tried to claw the offending object that was smothering him.

Dean quickly rose and clamped Sam's ailing hands, "Sammy, Sammy calm down, listen to me. Don't fight it; it's helping you to breathe…" But it seemed his none of his words were entering into Sam's hearings, his eyes were shifting around in utter terror, as the bone shivering gagging sound continued to come from his throat.

Dean was beyond nervous, he pressed hard on the call button a couple of time, but it was taking too long. He was shaking in intense fear as he watched Sam's eye persisted to roll in fright and the horrible suffocating sounds filled his ears. He grasped Sam's shoulder and screamed…

"**HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME. I NEED HELP**…"

**

* * *

TBC**

**

* * *

Okie dokie---Sam's awake. He is not dead, as you all feared. Sooooo, there is a cliffy again, but it's minor, right!! RIGHT!! Something special is coming on our way, if you need to read that fast, give me review, I will post the next chapter FASTER!!**

**Thank You,**

**Lots of Love**

**Ritu.**


	11. Chapter 11

**BETA: Wonderful Vonnie…**

**A/N:- Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed my story. I am totally stunned to see how much support you friends gave me for my fiction. I don't know what would I do without you friends… "CRASH & BURN" I guess. Love you all.**

* * *

**WHITE LIGHT**

* * *

Sam was terrified as he felt someone or something chocking him. He couldn't breathe; something was stuck in his throat, his tongue trailed over it. It was like a pipe_**, 'What! Someone's trying to strangle me',**_ the thought made him only more combative. He started to thrash and claw at the obstruction, which tried to suffocate him. His eyes were shifting around bewilderedly, but he couldn't see anything or anyone. He could hear someone calling him, talking to him, yet his fretful brain didn't seem to register a single word. He could feel hot tears trailing mercilessly over his cheeks and through his tear hazed vision he could see a couple of muddled figures looming over him. They were faceless and Sam tried to shy away from them but strong arms held on to his own tightly. _**'Who are they? Why are they trying to hurt me? Where is mom?' **_His mind reeled and he gasped loudly as the horrible feeling of being smothered utterly engulfed his mind and his vision started to blacken.

Dean was terrified at seeing Sam this stressed out. He attempted to calm his brother but failed miserably. Sam was trying to dislodge the vent from his throat and his gagging and chocking continued to worsen with each passing moment. Dean grabbed Sam's arms tightly to prevent his clearly disoriented and ailing brother from hurting himself, as Bobby did the same by holding the young man's shoulders. Dean called out to Sam and tried to sooth him, but got only an unrecognizable gaze from his brother and a painful gasp coming from back of his throat.

Dean pressed the red call button a couple of times and shouted. It had been only a minute or so since Sam started to wake, but it had happened so sudden, Dean was totally flabbergasted. Sam's unexpected awakening and his being combative like someone was trying to hurt or choke him and the noises he was making, sent a chill through Dean's spine. He could hear the hurried footsteps coming from the hall but his gaze stayed only fixed on his brother. He could see Sam's lips were trembling, like he was calling for someone, but the tube and tape it was secured with were making him impossible. "Sam, Sammy…It's okay. I gotcha', I gotcha'…" Dean was rubbing Sam's chest but took a sharp intake of breath as he saw Sam's eyes started to roll back in his head. **"WHERE THE HELL IS THE DAMN DOCTOR…?"** He screamed but abruptly was forcefully shoved away from his brother by someone.

* * *

Dr. Grant was high on his heel as he heard a high pitched wailing sound coming from ICU 62. The sound was ear deafening as it was clear that someone was pressing it continuously until he finally gave up. Accompanied by two male nurses and a female nurse he burst into Sam Pratt's ICU room and saw the intubated kid had started to hyperventilate in fear of being choked. His clearly scared-to-death big brother was trying to calm him down, but he was on the verge of having a panic attack himself. He nodded at one of the male nurses and rushed to his patient. He barked, "Push 1 mg of Ativan into his IV and hold his head still…" he ordered the other male nurse as the female nurse drew up and push the medication into Sam's IV line.

"**LET ME GO YOU SON OF A…"** Dean was practically bawling and kicking as the strong young nurse held him and dragged him from his brother's bed. All he could see was someone trying to pry him away from his brother, when Sam was in so much pain and fear for his life. Suddenly, he was manhandled by someone else, who grabbed his shoulder tightly and a gruff voice filled his ears, "Dean, calm down. They are trying to help Sammy. Breathe Dean…" Dean looked at him dazed as Bobby's calming words penetrated into his mind, "…just breathe."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then reopened them. He saw the female nurse inject something into Sam's IV line and shrugged Bobby's firm hold off. "I'm okay…" He nodded at Bobby and walked towards Sam's bed. He saw Sam was eventually calming down after the injected medicine entered into his system. He noticed that a nurse was holding his brother's face with both hands and heard the doctor talking lightly with Sam, "…it's okay Sam. Don't be afraid. I'm gonna pull the tube out of your throat now. Can you understand me?" But he was getting no response from Sam, though he was awake. Sam's eyes were open at half mast and his breathing seemed a little erratic. Dean took the unresisting hand of his brother and asked the doctor in a shaky voice, "…what 'appened?"

"Ahh, he was little freaked out when he regained consciousness having an ET tube stuck inside his throat." The doctor smiled gently as he adjusted the oxygen level to a lower parameter. "Don't worry, it's quite common. They aren't usually familiar with a tube like this. Now I'm gonna pull the tube, so hold him still."

Dean did exactly what the doctor said. He grabbed his brother's arm tightly to his chest and spoke softly, "Sammy, Sammy…" When Sam moved his head a little towards his voice, a warm smile beamed on Dean's face, "…Sammy, the doctor's gonna pull that nasty tube from your throat right now, okay! Just hold your breath for a second, okay buddy."

Getting an almost invisible nod from Sam, Dean nodded at doctor. After counting to three, the doctor smoothly pulled the tube out of Sam throat. Sam squirmed, but not much, because his head was held firmly by someone. After being freed from the offending tube, Sam almost doubled as a coughing fit racked through his body. Dean perched quickly on the bed and draped his hand around his brother's torso. He rubbed Sam's back soothing and muttered soft assuring words, as Sam spilled some saliva with some red droplets.

"What was that?" Dean eyes widened as he watched Sam coughing blood.

"Oh don't worry. He is just getting rid of the saliva that pooled in his mouth." Dr. Grant assured Dean and placed a nasal canula under Sam's nose, "…the blood mixed in there is due to the irritation from the tube. The danger is over."

"Oh thank God." Dean closed his eyes in utter relief and held his almost droopy brother to his chest. _**'You know how to scare a crap out of a big brother, Sammy'**_ his thought and chuckled. He opened his eyes and saw Bobby and doctor were talking about the repercussion for their youngest. Dean smiled as he saw Sam was looking at him through barely open eyes from the nestled position at Dean's shoulder.

"His throat might be sore for a while. Why don't you give him some ice chips? It'll help him to reduce the throat irritation." The doctor informed Dean.

Dean tenderly lowered his extremely weak brother and rested his head comfortably on the pillow. After talking with Bobby the doctor and uncle both were gone from the room. Dean glided his hand lightly on Sam's hot forehead and took the ice chip cup. He watched as Sam's eyes almost closed from exhaustion, but opened again, as he needed relief for his sore throat. Dean coaxed lightly, "Sammy, open you mouth little brother. Sam!"

Sam was feeling like he was floating. The chocking sensation was gone now, but his throat was bothering him a little. His mind was still clouded; he couldn't seem to recognize anything of his surrounding. He could hear someone was talking to somebody and he was being held to someone's chest. It was too familiar; with the smell of gunpowder, after shave and sweat… _'Dean…_' he opened his eyes to slits to see that two smiling glistening green orbs looked at him. Sam was confused. Why would Dean want to be with him, when he failed his brother? His mind was working backwardly. He could remember what happened back at the crossroad; he could remember how he failed to bring his father back. His eyes were feeling heavy as the thought was making him feel extremely exhausted. The last thing he remembered was his mother talking to him, but that was only for some minutes. He wanted his mother; he wanted to be with his mother…as far as he knew Dean didn't want to be with him. He closed his eyes in confusion; he didn't understand…why would Dean want to be near him? He was nothing but a failure after all.

Sam jolted back from his confused thoughts, when he heard Dean was talking to him. He cracked opened his tear blurred eyes and saw Dean was stirring a spoon in a bowl. He tried to speak but no words came from his cotton filled throat. He licked his dried crack lips and heard Dean was saying, "Common Sammy, open your mouth. Eaty eaty…" Dean was cajoling him like a baby. Sam tried to smirk but succeeded in nothing but grimacing.

Dean gently pushed the ice chip filled spoon into Sam's open mouth and smiled as Sam swallowed it greedily. "Easy Sammy…" he cooed and put another spoonful into his brother's dried mouth. He watched thousand questions travel over Sammy's face as he stared at him. After finishing one third of the bowl Dean wiped Sam's face with a napkin. Then he leaned down to his brother and placed a comforting hand on his forehead, _**'Damn, he's still got a high fever,'**_ Dean smiled and kept his worries masked, "How you feeling kiddo?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He swallowed and tried again, "Wh…wha…why…?"

"Why what Sammy? What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Dean sounded anxious.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His head was hurting, chest aching. He was feeling like he was burning up from inside. His eyelids were getting heavier as the darkness kept calling him. But he remained awake, he needed to find some answers.

"I…ahh…am…ss…sorryyyy…" Sam's voice slurred.

Dean was certainly taken aback by Sam's sudden apology. Why was Sam apologizing to him? It should be him who needed to apologize to his brother.

"Why are you saying sorry to me Sammy? You have done nothing to say that to me." Dean's voice was full of sadness, "It's me who should say sorry to you brother. It's me who needs your forgiveness."

Sam didn't seem to listen to him. His eyes were almost closed and he was taking short breaths. Dean thought he was asleep but knitted his eyebrows when Sam opened his eyes again.

"I…I…shouldn' be…be here…Deaaan…" Sam was gasping, "…Dad should…Dad…should be here…I failed…he to…told me…to…to bring…ah…him back…"

"Sammy calm down. Please, don't stress yourself…" Dean felt a huge lump started to form inside his throat as Sam mentioned their father again. He massaged Sam's chest to calm him down but Sam continued…

"I'm…Dad…" Sam swallowed, "…told me a…killer…I…I ki…killed Mom…D'n…Killed Da…Dad too…you you ha…hate me for…for…"

"Sammy please, stop it. I don't hate you little brother." Dean's eyes were almost welling.

Sam rolled his head away from Dean's side as tears stared to leak from his eyes. He was getting delirious. He just couldn't erase the scenes of the crossroad, as they were playing back and forth inside his puzzled brain. His father's wrathful words, Jessica's snarls…everything seemed to be crashing inside his head. He knew Dean had been there for him, but why Dean came, he couldn't fathom. He didn't remember Dean's screaming for his brother's life, his confrontation with the demon to save him; all he remembered were the dark memories, the wraths, the hate…the pain.

"I…I'm sor…sorry…don't hate…hate me…" Sam brought a trembling hand over his temple as a sudden pain spiked inside his head and he whimpered. Dean quickly leaned over his brother's body and trailed his hands over Sam's face and chest, "Sammy please, no. You didn't do anything wrong. Please calm down. I could never hate you Sammy…" Dean tried to console his brother, as he fought to control his own emotion, "…Sammy…I…I, please Sam, don't do that…"

"I…I…will leeeave…Daa'…hates…mom…I…Jess…leave…wan'a go…to…maa…" Sam's voice was getting weaker and incoherent with every passing moment, as his eyelids started to droop and the hand grabbing his temple fell on the pillow.

Dean stared at his sleeping brother with such sadness in his eyes after hearing his brother's confession that he didn't want to live his life anymore. He wanted to leave, Dean wiped some wayward tears forming in his eyes away and sniffled; Sam thought he was a disappointment, he wanted Dean to be free from his burden. Sam wanted to go to his mother…that means…Dean suddenly pulled his brother up on his chest and started to rock as he cried his heart out…that means Sammy wanted to die. "No, no, Sammy, don't leave me. I am so so sorry my brother for what I had done to you. Please, come back to me…" Dean's shoulders heaved as cries racked his body. He placed Sam's head against his neck and buried his face in his brother's soft hair, "…forgive me Sam, don't leave. I can't do anything without you Sammy, please. Mom please, don't take him again. Give him back to me." Dean continued to cry and slowly rocked his brother in the silence of the room.

* * *

Sam's eyelids flattered as a bright sunray glided over his face. He cracked his eyelids but quickly closed them again, _**'God that light hurts my eyes, I thought hospitals don't provide such harsh and bright lights,' **_He thought and placed his right hand over his eyes to shield the harshness but suddenly was astounded as he looked his hands, _**'What, no IV's, no tapes…'**_ his mouth opened agape "And I'm wearing a white shirt…" He scrambled and got up "…and jeans…" he muttered, _**'wasn't I at the hospital and man, these clothes are expensive'**_, he rubbed his finger over the shirt fabric and noticed he wasn't at the hospital. He was sitting on sand, _**'what the…'**_ he looked up and saw a huge ocean breaking its waves noisily on the shore. The deep blue ocean had no end…Sam blinked at the beautiful scene dazedly, looking at where the white-blue sky kissed the ocean at its horizon. The chirping of flying seagulls was making the place dreamy.

"Am I dead?" He didn't realize he asked loud that to himself.

"No baby…" Sam jumped hearing the sweet melodious voice behind him and spun around, 'mom', he watched his mother once again come to him. She was sitting a few feet away from him _and god_, _**'she is beautiful'**_, Sam thought and startled again when his mother spoke once more,"…you aren't dead."

"Then, how am I here? I don't remember being here and how…" Sam swallowed quite nervously, "…how can I be with you if I'm not dead?"

"I brought you here Sammy. You're just dreaming. Your body is still in the hospital but your soul is here…" Mary smiled, "…with me." Mary slowly got up and kneeled in front of her son, "I wanted to talk with you."

"Mom…I…" Sam leaned in Mary's palm when she cupped his face with such love and affection.

"Sammy, why are you doing this? You aren't supposed to be here baby. You have a life to live Sam. You have to spend your life with your brother Sammy." Mary whispered in an adorable voice as she continued caressing her boy.

Sam remained quiet for some seconds as the previous incidents flooding in his head. His Dad's words **'You're a killer Sam…'** Sam shuddered; Jessica's hatred. **'****I shouldn't have loved you, Sam; it was the biggest mistake of my life…,**' Sam squeezed his eyes shut and a lonely tear fell from his eye. He felt Mary wiped his tear away and he opened his eyes, "I don't deserve to live Mom. I…I am a…" his voice broke, "…I am a killer Mom. I killed Dad, Jessica and…and I killed you too Mom. I killed you too." Sam was now crying like a small child.

"Aww baby…" Mary held her boy to her chest and draped both arms around him, "…shhh…don't cry. It wasn't your fault Sammy. It wasn't your fault at anytime." Mary cooed in a soothing tone and kissed him on his hair.

"How wasn't it my fault, Mom? The demon that night came for me and you got killed. Dad should've saved you instead of me, Mom. Every…everybody I love gets hurt because of me Mom; I'm nothing but a curse for everyone around me." Sam sniffled and placed an arm around his mother's neck.

Mary carded her fingers through Sam's hair, "No Sam, you are wrong. What happened that night…it was destined," Mary stopped for a moment and seemed lost in her thoughts for a second, "It was destined before you were born. It was my fault that you and Dean have to face what you shouldn't have."

"What? What are you talking about Mom? How could this be your fault? That demon came for me not you." Sam moved a looked at her mother's face.

"It's complicated Sam. But I can't tell you anything right now. You will know later baby. Just drop it, okay!" Mary rested her head on Sam's and stared at the wavy ocean.

Sam was confused but didn't push anymore. He was feeling so good in his mother's embrace. He knew his mother came that night when the crossroad demon almost got him and saved him; but he was too weak and nearly unconscious then. He didn't remember much about that night, just vaguely remembered Mary taking him into her lap and then black…his memory had been erased after that. But today was different. Today he was wide awake; breathing…he inhaled his mother's essence and sunk deeper into her embrace…

"Dad hates me Mom. He told me that he hated me. I couldn't save him Mom and I couldn't bring him back to Dean." Sam's voice croaked in utter sadness.

"No Sammy, your Dad didn't hate you. How could you think that? He loved you as much as he loved your brother. We all love you so much Sam."

"But…but he said…" Sam didn't understand what to believe.

"That was the demon's trick Sam, you should have known that. Your Dad can't come back from where he is right now Sammy. Neither can Jessica. This was all fake, to make you feel guilty Sam."

"Jessica didn't mean it?" Sam sounded kind of hopeful.

"No Sam she didn't hate you, she never could. She loved you more than you knew Sam, you're so special Sammy." Mary smiled, when she saw the ray of hope forming in her baby's eyes.

"But Dean…" Sam knew it was the biggest part he was holding inside his heart. His brother, his only family, his best friend in life told him such awful things he could never forget. He could believe that his father and Jessica weren't real…but Dean, he was real. What he said to him…it was all real. He could stand his Dad and Jessica but Dean…

"I know what you are thinking Sam. But Dean didn't mean it." Mary grabbed his chin lightly with her fingers and made him look up, "what he said…he said in anger. He was under so much pressure Sammy. You don't know how he saved your life when you were dying, baby." Her voice was trembling.

"But…"

"No buts Sammy. Can't you hear what he is saying? Can't you feel his pain at the though of losing you? Don't tell me you can't."

Sam moved his head off Mary's neck and stared blankly at the ocean. He could hear the waves braking, but he could also hear a faint voice coming from nowhere…a voice…so familiar…the voice of…

"Dean?"

**Sammy, please Sammy. Don't leave me baby brother. I can't live without you. I…I love you Sammy…Please come back to me baby brother…come back…**

'Is he crying?' Sam thought.

The voice came again…

**You remember Sammy, who gave you the little nickname**…Sam heard a teary chuckle…**It was me you know. Mom and Dad didn't even know the secret of that name 'Sammy'. You know what the secret of your name is Sammy?** 'No', Sam thought, 'what was it'…**when I first saw you in Mom's arm I claimed you as mine. You were mine since then Sammy, nobody knew that. That's why I gave you that nick name 'Sammy', you know… 'My Sam'. I just suddenly jumbled the words and found what I was searching for so long. You are my Sam, Sammy**…Dean's faint voice was trembling and Sam could hear the tears in his voice. Sam's eyes were watery now too, 'Dean, you loved me this much…' the thought made tears fall from his eyes…**Sammy, come back little brother. I will make everything better, just open you eyes baby**…

"Mom, Dean…Dean is crying Mom." Sam was crying too.

Mary wiped a tear from her own eye and smiled, "Yes Sam. He is crying for you. He will die, if you don't go back to him Sammy. He is waiting for his Sam."

"Mom, but I missed you so much. I…want to be with my Mom for some time…"

"I'm not your Mom Sammy…" Mary smiled to see her son's mouth hanged open…

"What?" Sam's voice was shaking.

"Yes, I am your mother…but I only gave you life Sammy. The real mother of yours is Dean, Sammy. He is your brother, mother and father…everything. Don't you remember the competition Sam?" Mary asked with a bright smile.

"Competition?" Sam was thinking about what competition his Mom was talking about.

"When you were seven, there was a competition held in you school. The topic was 'pick your card and spill'…"

Sam recalled this memory and beamed, "Yeah, I remember. I revised a lot of possible topics at home but on the stage my topic was…" Sam suddenly stopped and looked at his mother sadly.

Mary smiled loving and brushed a wayward strand of hair fro her son's eyes, "Mother."

"Yeah." Sam swallowed as he remembered that situation.

**Seven years old Sammy Winchester was standing on the stage with his topic. Sammy swallowed and looked again at the topic…'Your Mother'…his throat was dry and a cry was bubbling inside him. He didn't revise it at home, because he didn't have a **_**mommy**_**. Sam looked at the audience and saw his eleven years old brother sitting on one of the front seats, cheering him constantly, 'C'mon Sammy, you can do it'. The time was running and teachers were pushing him constantly to start the topic. Sam sniffled as tears flowed from his eyes. His sniffling was filtering all over the hall through the mic in front of him. Dean was agitated to see his brother's distress **_**'Why is Sammy crying'**_** and glared at the fidgeting audience, who was making fun of his little brother's sudden uneasiness. Dean looked at the stage as a teacher asked his brother what the topic was. Sammy stuttered couple of times and then spoke in a tiny crying voice, "Mom!'**

**Dean instantly knew what was wrong. Sammy's topic was mother and Sammy didn't know anything about his mom. That was a very sensitive subject for his baby brother. 'Damn it' the eleven year old swore under his breath and looked at his brother's face. Sammy was crying now, his chubby cheeks were red and his puppy dog green eyes were shifting from one corner to another.**

"**Mom" Sam tried again but failed.**

**Suddenly someone's voice was filtered through the mic… "Mom is the greatest thing in everyone's life…" Sam looked up and saw Dean was standing beside him with the mic in his hand. Dean rubbed Sam's head lightly and smiled, "Mom is life, Mom is what a person wants above everything. Mom gives love, mom feeds her children…Mom tells stories and sings lullaby at night. Mom is a flower whose fragrance fills the whole universe of her child…" Dean crouched beside his brother, "…those are lucky who have Moms…" and wiped his baby brother's tears… "But, we don't have a mom…" he swallowed, as he saw Sammy started to cry again and embraced his baby onto his chest… "Our mom left us because God wanted her with him. She was very good and God keeps good people with him." He kissed Sammy's cheeks and continued, "…but you have me, Sammy. I will love you like Mommy, I will take care of you like her. Mom gave you to me to take care of you Sammy…so you have me and I have you. And remember…Mommy is watching us from heaven, right Sammy. So don't cry…I'm with you and I will always be with you…Sammy…" Dean hugged his brother to his chest as the ear deafening clapping sounds resounded in the whole big school hall.**

Sam smiled as he once again reviewed the memory of his childhood in his mind. He could still hear Dean's voice assuring him that he was there instead of his mom. Yes, Dean was always there for him and always would be…Sam nodded at nothing. He had been wrong about him. He should have thought about Dean being upset after Dad's death and him being the closest to reach out to. Sam had known the 'whom you love most you hurt most' theory, but he had been too wrapped in his own pain. Dean loved him and he loved Dean more than anything. He was feeling shame for himself as he thought he was about to leave the brother, who had never left his side, alone. He sure wanted to be with his mother…but his real mother…his brother was waiting for him down there somewhere.

"I understand Mom, I understand everything what you were trying to say to me." Sam smiled and wiped his tears and hugged his mom, "I love you Mom. I love you so much. But I have to go to Dean."

Mary hugged him back then kissed her baby boy on the cheek, "I know and I love you too. Tell Dean I love him so much and be with him forever, okay baby."

Sam nodded and Mary smiled, "Go, Sammy. I love you."

Before Sam could say 'I love you too' he felt like someone pushed him from a fifty storied building and he kept falling and falling into the dark abyss.

* * *

Dean was watching Sam like a hawk, not to mention he was talking to him constantly to keep his brother's brain busy. But Sam's health continued to deteriorate constantly. It was almost afternoon but Sam hadn't regained consciousness since the early morning, when the ventilator was removed. After the sudden bout of apologizing and self loathing, Sam had lost consciousness on his brother's shoulder. That had been almost fifteen hours ago and now it was almost afternoon. His fever had spiked once again at a dangerous level and again he was having some sort of breathing problems. The doctor checked him a couple of times and changed his medication. Though the doctor assured him that it was just a side effect of the removal of ET tube, he wasn't so optimistic. Sam was going downhill again and he knew; it wasn't any side effect of some frigging tube or something. Sam had given up on his life, Sam didn't want to live, he didn't want to be with his brother anymore. Dean's eyes filled with unshed tears **"Sammy please",** as he remembered, what Sam had said to him before. He knew, he was the one to blame here. Yes, he would take all the blame and accept happily all the punishments; if his brother would only wake up.

Dean had talked to him since the morning, hoping his voice would wake Sam up from his oblivion. He hadn't taken any food, when Bobby had tried to make him eat; he'd growled like an angry wolf and had made Bobby backed away. He'd bathed Sam's face and neck with a cool drenched washcloth and placed one on his forehead replacing it ever so often. He'd comforted his brother and had told him many stories about their childhood; about some of the happy memories, hoping those memories would break the abyss between him and his little brother.

It was almost evening, Dean's voice broke dangerously from continuous talking; but he hadn't given up yet. Sam was still unconscious yet Dean kept trying. 'Giving up wasn't an option especially with Sammy' Dean thought and told him a story about a competition during Sam's childhood. Between his monologues, he noticed Sam stirred slightly, as the heart monitor beeped a little faster. Dean was getting more enthusiastic, seeing a little response from his brother and started to coax him more, "C'mon Sammy, wake up brother. Don't play sleeping beauty anymore with me. I am loosing my battle with being patient here, while you are the patient." Dean chuckled humorless and continued, "Sammy, I know what you are waiting for, you stubborn geek. You want me to tell you the 'L word', right! And this will be the hell of the 'chick flick moment of the year'." He watched Sammy move his head a little towards him, "Okay princess, here we go…I…lo…"

Sam's eyelids fluttered a little but remained closed. Dean held his breathe but let it go, when nothing happened. He sighed and tried again, "I…lo…sh*t…Sammy…I lost the game okay, you are the winner here. Now game over, open your eyes for me…Sammy…?"

Dean was leaning over Sam's face, when a weak voice startled him, "You're never gonna say it, are you?"

Dean scrambled and got up from his slouched position, his face breaking into a huge smile. Sam was awake, he was looking at him through droopy lids, but he was awake.

"Sammy?" Dean couldn't believe in his sudden luck. Without thinking he just picked his brother's upper body from the bed and hugged him.

Sam was happy to have his big brother back in rotation again. He was amused though at being hugged by his no-chick flick-crap-brother, but at the same time he knew, Dean was worried for him and this was the simple payment for his worry. He thought he needed to remember to blackmail his 'super macho big brother with the hugging card' later. He was weak but his mind was working so playfully. Croaking, he said, "Ahh Dean…"

Still hugging his little brother Dean muttered, "Yes Sammy?"

"Are you gonna kiss me?" Sam smirked.

Dean's lips once again broke into a genuine ear to ear smile, upon hearing the retort. _**'Yeah, that's mah boy.'**_ Sammy returned and this was just the start. He hugged him more tightly and cursed…

"Shut up b*tch."

"You too jerk."

The brothers were hugging each other for a long time without noticing an older, ruff gruff figure was watching them behind the door, as wiped some tears from his eyes and prayed, "Thank you God. Thank you so much for giving John's boys back to each other…and to me. Thank you."

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Okay, that's it. That was the "the chick flick moment of the year" and 'YAY'…Sammy is back and Dean is happy…*Happy Tears***

**There is only one chapter left and that will be the epilogue. And I will reveal some unexpected thing over there…so be with me and think what am I talking about!! If you like this chapter then please, leave a review. Let me know about your feelings. Your all reviews just make my day awesome.**

**Thank You.**

**Ritu.**


	12. Chapter 12

**BETA: Vonnie, Thank you so much for your awesome beta work and support.**

**** This chapter is dedicated to my beta and friend and big sister "Vonnie". I love you Didi. ****

**A/N: - Well, last and final chapter. Thank you so much to all who read and reviewed my story. Without you friends…you know what…THANK YOU FRIENDS.

* * *

**

**WHITE LIGHT

* * *

**

*****~**~ EPILOGUE ~**~*****

It was almost noon; bright sunrays were peeking through the blinds of the hospital windows. The lights in the room had been kept at low power. Dean stifled a big yawn and blinked widely a couple of times. He was sitting on the hard plastic chair for the last two hours. Sam was sleeping, peacefully. The gentle sounds of his breathing were filling the whole silent room, especially Dean's ears. Sam was looking so serene in his slumber; Dean smiled at the sight of his baby brother's innocent face and swept some hairs from Sam's forehead. Dean frowned a little, Sam's forehead was slightly hot to touch but he seemed okay. It was two days since Sam came back to him and started to get better. Though he was still weak, couldn't keep his eyes open more than half an hour; at least he was lucid.

Dean leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs wide and his arms upwards at the same time. God, he was tired. He knew he seriously needed some decent sleep but his heart wasn't ready to accept it. He slept a couple of times keeping his head on Sam's hospital bed, but jerked awake when he heard a mere whimper escaping from Sam's lips and comforted him from whatever pain and distress he was feeling. Sometimes, Dean woke up abruptly with the thought of Sam whimpering and being in pain, but then he realized it was only his imaginations. Sam was deeply asleep in his medicated slumber, but Dean's big brother mode was in high gear and he wasn't ready to leave his 'Mother Henning' duty that easily.

Dean again stifled a large yawn like he was going to gulp the whole world up and didn't realize he was doing it loudly. He startled and clamped his mouth shut mid way when he heard a weak voice coming from the patient bed.

"Dean, go get some rest. You look beat." Sam stated in a sleepy childlike voice.

"Sammy, you awake?" Dean quickly leaned over his little brother and placed a comforting hand on his. Although he was feeling a little guilty for waking his brother up due to his large yawn honk.

"Nah, you're hallucinating." Sam snorted.

Dean chuckled, "Wise a**."

Sam rubbed his eyes with his knuckles to wipe the rest of his sleeps away. Like always, Dean smiled at the sight, _**'Jeez, he always looks like five years old when he does that'**_ and shook his head.

"What?"

"What what Sammy?"

"What are you smiling for?" Sam asked as he tried to lever himself up to a sitting position. Dean got up quickly and helped his still somewhat fragile brother. "Nothing." He fluffed the pillows and settled them behind his brother's back, repositioning himself on the seat again.

Sam stared at him quizzically for some moments and flung his hand in the air, "Okay, you gotta stop this."

"Stop what Sammy?" Dean arched his eyebrows.

"Fussing over me, Dean." Sam sounded a little annoyed and Dean smirked. Sam huffed and whined, "I'm serious Dean. You are doing nothing but mother henning me for…for forty eight hours without remission man! That's…that's suffocating me dude."

"No, I'm not." Dean tried to defend himself.

"Yes, you are. Since I woke up, you are going all Florence Nightingale on me Dean. And…and what was that?" Sam pouted.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

Sam rolled his eyes and gestured as he was fluffing pillow, "That…you're being ridiculous. Pillow fluffing dude! And…and all this weird fussiness like wiping my chin when I eat and if I roll on my side, you press the call button…driving the doctors and nurses nuts with your constant questions…hovering over me like I am some kind of new born baby…"

"Well, I'm not." Dean casually refuted and snickered like Sam was talking weird.

"Are too."

"Am not"

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Jerk."

"B*tch." Dean chuckled.

Sam sighed and let his hands fall beside him. He chewed his lower lip and started again, "Dean I can understand…"

"No you can't." Dean's voice sounded cold and Sam flinched slightly at the tone.

"Dean, you can't let this continue. I know what you are thinking. But…but I'm okay man…"

"No you're NOT." Dean suddenly barked at him and jumped up form his seat. He walked to the window and stared at the outside scenery. But he wasn't concentrating at anything. He gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together hard.

"Dean?" Sam's soft voice came again.

Dean turned towards Sam and swallowed. His eyes were kind off cloudy. He licked his lips and started, "Sam, I…I know you're not okay. I put you in this state Sammy. I was being such a jerk with you since…" Dean took a deep breath and looked at the tiled floor, "…since Dad died. I…I…should have looked after you…"

"Dean, listen…"

"No." Dean raised an arm and Sam stopped, "Let me finish. I have to. Sammy, I'm sorry I treated you like you were a waste of my time, when I should'a taken care of you. I should'a looked after you when you were so sick. But I didn't." Dean eyes were almost welling as he swallowed his emotions, "And I…I don't blame you that you hid your illness from me. You must have tried, but I was so consumed with my own sorrow and self loathing, like he was only my Dad. I should'a remembered he was…he was your dad too Sammy." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Sam's eyes were wailing as he heard Dean's confession. God, he was waiting for this moment for so long, but today was different. Today he knew, Dean was there with him and always be with him. When his father died, Dean's behavior and withdrawal from everything around him made him think that Dean might not come back to him. But today, he knew that this was the Dean he knew from his childhood. His hero, his protector…his reasons of living. He was the Dean Sam had come back for, he was the one for whom Sam didn't give up. But today, he didn't need Dean's self accusation because he already knew that his big brother was there for him.

"I know Dean…" Sam rasped in a soft voice, "…I know what you did, but you didn't mean it. Dad…dad was a big part of your life; I'm not saying that he didn't love me. I know Dean, he loved me. Mom told me, Dean."

"Sammy?" Dean came closer to Sam's bed and sat at the side of it.

Sam fiddled with his blanket and choked back a sob, "Dean, you aren't the one to blame. I am the one who did many things wrong. I kept pushing and pushing cuz…" Sam sniffed and looked up at his brother, "…cuz I was afraid I might loose you Dean. And…and I didn't wanna loose you…"

"Then why Sam? Why did you head out to make a deal? You think I could live if something happened to you?" Dean's voice broke again at the thought how close he had come to loosing his little brother.

"I…I thought if I bring back Dad to you again, you…you would be happy again. You would be the old Dean I knew." Sam looked up at Dean sadly.

Dean cupped Sam's face with both hand and didn't even realize it, "At what cost Sam? Exchanging you? How could you…I can't loose you Sam…not for anything…not even for Dad Sammy. I don't know what I would do if…if I lost you…" Dean was crying.

Sam suddenly hugged his brother and cried, "I'm sorry Dean. I am so sorry. I wasn't thinking…I…I won't do it again Dean. No more deal, Dean."

Dean draped his hands over Sam's back and rocked him. He whispered, "No more deal, Sammy. That's the deal, no more deal with the demons."

* * *

Dean woke up at the constant ringing noise filling the whole room. He rolled on the bed and turned the alarm off on his cell phone. He brought his left arm in front of his face and yawned, "What's the time…" and sat abruptly, "…oh God, it's already 8:00 a.m. and I am late as usual." He quickly got up and ran towards the bathroom, closing the door with a thud.

Today was special for Dean, today Sam would be released from the hospital. After one week of hospitalization and so many tests and examinations the doctor confirmed that Sam was ready to go home. Though Sam was ready since two days ago and he was driving Dean nuts about signing AMA papers. But Dean didn't agree; he coolly refused Sam's entire request, puppy dog glares and everything that Sam Winchester could muster. Then Sam refused to talk with him for a couple of hours, but Dean wasn't ready to take any chances with his brother's health.

Last night after checking Sam thoroughly, Dr. Grant announced that Sam was doing okay and ready to leave tomorrow. That was, when Sam and Bobby told Dean to go Bobby's house and get some sleep. He wasn't agreeing at first but when Sam told him that if he wouldn't go home and rest, he wouldn't take any medicine or food or anything. That made Dean afraid though he muttered some cuss at Sam for being a b*tch but at last he reluctantly consented. He promised Sam that he would arrive at hospital early with some clean clothes since Sam's shirt and jeans he was wearing when he was brought into the hospital had been cut away.

After a real hot shower Dean was feeling like a human again. Now he understood, why he so urgently needed a decent night sleep and a hot shower to feel like himself again. He quickly changed into clean jeans and blue button down shirt and took his jacket. Then he went to Sam's duffel to retrieve some of his clothes, but shockingly he found nothing to wear. There were only a blue tee shirt which was already torn for overuse and jeans. That jeans were torn too and there was a big stain of blood. Dean swallowed as he remembered that was the clothing Sam had been wearing when the semi hit the impala. He rummaged the duffel again and pulled out a worn out jacket of Sam's. His eyes filled once again with unshed tears as he saw large blood patches still visible on the collar of the jacket. His brother's blood, Sammy's blood; Sammy didn't even replace his clothes with new one. He bought some new clothes for Dean, yet never even bothered to get some for himself. "Oh Sammy, why are you so good little brother…" Dean wiped away his tears and threw his brother's blood smeared clothes into the waste bin. He pulled his wallet out from his drawer and headed towards his newly assembled impala.

* * *

Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for his brother. He was feeling good though he was still a little weak. His IV's had been removed two days ago and he was only having oral meds. He was getting stronger slowly but surely, but sometimes he was feeling real lightheaded. He knew it was the side effect of those heavy duty medications and the illness or strokes he had suffered, but he was sure it would leave soon.

He looked at the digital clock and sighed. It was already 10:30 a.m and Dean still hadn't showed up. Sam had taken his shower and meds but now he was dying to get out from this hell. Bobby had gone to Colorado Springs for some reason as Sam and Dean assured him that they would take it real easy and call if they needed. Sam chewed his lip as he thought where his brother could be now?

"Missed me Cinderella?" Dean's cheerful voice came from the door way and Sam startled.

"Jerk. Where have you been?" Sam asked annoyed.

"Well, traffic was a b*tch, b*tch." Dean smirked and Sam huffed, "Besides, there were some hot chicks at the department store, soooo…" Dean was laughing.

Sam was confused, "What the hell were you doing at a department store?"

Dean sat on the seat and put his legs on Sam's bed. Sam glared at him, but he didn't care, "Got something for ya Sammy." He threw some shopping bags on the bed and relaxed.

Sam quirked his eyebrows and rummaged through the bag. He pulled some new shirts, tee shirts, underwears and a couple of jeans from it and stared at them disbelievingly. _**'Is Dean okay? Why did he buy so many expensive clothes and where did he get all the money?'**_

"Oh come on Sammy, those are clothes not chicks. Pick one of 'em and let's go." Dean was getting bored.

"Dean, you didn't have to do that. That's so much and man," Sam looked at the clothes again, "These are expensive."

Dean answered casually, "Well, I didn't pay for it, you did."

"I did?" Sam was totally confused now.

"Yeah. Remember you worked at Butch's diner and he forgot to give you your paycheck. Well, I personally visited him and politely asked for the due payment and he gave it to me, simple." Dean was smirking.

Sam stared at him incredulously, trying to calculate what to believe and what not. He knew he should have to deduct at least eighty percent of Dean's statement and then he could come to some conclusion. But he was too tired to argue and let the subject drop. He chose a light brown shirt with white and black stripes and jeans the cleared his throat, "Ahh, a little privacy here please."

Dean downed his legs from the bed and pulled the curtains, "Okay, I will be outside your door." He hesitated a little and spoke, "Holler at me, if you need any help." Sam nodded and Dean got out of the room.

Sam gingerly pulled on the tee shirt and put the button down over it. Getting into the jeans was really hard work for him since bending down always made him dizzy. Once he thought to call Dean for a help, but it would be too much embarrassment if his brother helped him to get him into his jeans.

After somehow finishing with his clothes, Sam got himself ready for the next hard work. He looked wearily at his socks and sneakers as he sat on the bed. He closed his eyes suddenly feeling so tired; the clothes changing had totally worn him out. He took some deep breaths and leaned down to take his shoes but it turned out to be a bad idea. As he bent the whole world swirled and he started to topple forward.

Suddenly his falling was stopped in mid way as someone grabbed his shoulders protectively and held him up. Sam squinted his eyes closed as the spinning sensation was still assaulting him. He could feel Dean was murmuring soothing words as he slowly leaned him against the headboard of the bed. Dean quickly held a glass to his brother's lips as he took some tentative sips. After Dean wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a cool rag, Sam opened his eyes and saw Dean's anxious face hovering in front of him.

"You feeling okay now, Sammy?" Dean anxiously asked and cupped his brother's face to calculate his brother's pain level.

"Yeah." Sam answered softly.

"Should I call the doctor?"

"No, I'm okay, just got a little dizzy." Sam inhaled sharply.

"Okay, let me help you with the shoes." Dean crouched and pulled the socks from the shoes.

Sam was embarrassed. Dean had already done enough for him, but now his big brother touching his legs and helping him to get into the socks ad shoes was too much for him. He weakly tried to protest…

"Dean…"

"Shut up Sam." Dean softly berated and Sam stopped. He smiled a little as Dean carefully pulled the socks on and put his little brother's feet into the shoes. After finishing tying up laces, he grabbed the prescriptions and pill bottles from the table and put them into a bag.

"Ready Sammy?"

"Yeah."

Sam weakly pushed himself up from the bed as Dean snaked an arm around his shoulder and draped the other around his waist. With Dean's help Sam walked slowly to the door, where a wheelchair was waiting for him. Dean lowered his brother carefully into the wheelchair and frowned a little when Sam didn't whine about his chariot. _**'He must be way too exhausted'**_ Dean thought and pushed his brother towards the exit.

* * *

Dean was driving his baby peacefully and glanced occasionally at his 'other baby' Sam, who was currently staring out the window. 'Back in Black' was coming from the car stereo; Dean's constantly tapping the wheel. Sam seemed happy to get out of the hospital. He was exhausted but didn't nod off or take a nap during the car ride. He chatted casually with Dean at times but then got exhausted and stopped talking.

During the journey a place came in his view and he frowned, 'Butch's café and diner'. The memory of being insulted by Butch came to his mind, but he also remembered the rest of the crew of the shop especially Lucy and Jason who had helped him a lot in his bad time.

Sam fidgeted a little and asked, "Ahh, Dean!"

Dean nodded a 'what' and turned off the music.

"Can you pull over the car for a minute?"

Dean killed the engine parked the impala beside the pavement. "Why Sammy, are you feeling alright? You gonna hurl or something?" His big brother mode once again kicked into high gear.

Now Sam was annoyed, "Stop that, I'm okay. I just want to go over there." He gestured over to Butch's Diner.

"To that crap hole again, why Sam?" Dean was astonished.

Sam toyed with the hem of his shirt and answered softly, "Well, there are some friends of mine who…ah… helped me a lot when…when…I was sick and wasn't able to do my work properly. I…I just wanna say thanks to them if it's okay with you." Sam looked at him with pleading eyes.

Dean thought for a second and then said, "Okay, alright then. C'mon." Dean opened his door and then helped Sam get out of the car. He didn't break the hold of his brother's shoulder as they entered into the diner shop.

"Oh my god, Sam." Lucy spotted Sam within a second as they entered into the room. She put her tray on the table and came close to them. Sam gave her a shy dimpled smile,

"Hello Ma'am."

Lucy just looked at the boy's face who had taken a special place in her heart. She hugged him tightly and kissed him on his cheek, "Oh, put the formalities aside boy, call me Lucy."

"Sorry Ma'am, I mean Lucy." Sam returned the hug with the same affection.

"Oh god, what happened after you left Sam? I was so worried about you." Lucy asked worriedly.

"Ahh, I was kinda sick after that Lucy and I had to be admitted to the hospital." Sam replied softly.

Lucy trailed her hands over Sam's face and head in a motherly way and asked, "You okay now Sam? You look so skinny and pale."

Sam smiled again, "Yes, I am okay now, thanks to my big brother Dean here."

Dean smiled at her and cockily said, "Well, we meet again Lucy."

Sam was kind of astonished hearing that from Dean and looked at him. He was just going to ask him, when Jason and the others of the crew came to him and cheered with enjoyment for having Sam once again among them.

"What the hell is going on?" A rough, terribly annoyed voice filtered in the whole cheery room and suddenly everyone went silent. The owner 'Butch' was standing at the threshold of his office room and scanned the whole situation in a very unsympathetic manner.

Dean knew that Butch hadn't seen him because he was hidden behind the crew. An evil smile ghosted on his face and suddenly he walked out from behind them and stood in front of the pudgy man with his best mischievous smile on his face.

"Howdy pal!"

Butch's eyes widened as he saw Dean. Utter fear was showing all over his face like he had seen some kind of ghost or something. He stumbled backward… "Owww…www…mmm…mmy…gggg…not…again…" his face turned a superior shade of white and he just threw himself inside his room and locked the door with an ear deafening thud.

Sam was clearly dumbfounded to see the whole drama that happened so quickly in front of him. He couldn't understand why Dean told Butch 'howdy' and why Butch freaked like that. He also noticed that the others were laughing their lungs out at seeing Butch's reaction. Astounded, he tried to ask Dean but stopped, "Long story. Tell you later." Dean smirked and peaked his eyebrows in amusement to see Sam's confused state.

* * *

Dean was once again driving his car in a happy mood, because of having Sam ride shotgun beside him. But this time Sam was soundly asleep. Head leaned on the half closed window, the strong wind blowing over him, scattering his hair all over his face. The excitement at Butch's diner had really exhausted poor boy. Dean smiled and inhaled sharply, as the mind blowing aroma of food came from the back seat. There were lots of food packets on the backseat, which were heartfelt gifts given by Lucy, Jason and the other friends from the diner. Yes, Dean was beyond happy; the delicious aroma of food was making him seriously drool. He once thought to sneak one of the pieces of pizza or anything, but controlled his urge somehow with the thought that first he had to get to the house and make sure that Sam was doing alright and let him rest. He shook his head and pressed the gas pedal down tightly.

Dean slowed the car down as a bar came to his view. No, he was in no mood of drinking this early; but he remembered that a lady by the name of 'Sadie' worked there. Dean killed the engine and absently looked at the sleeping face of Sam. Sadie was the first person who showed him that he needed to get back to his brother, '…_**as long as you're around your brother Dean**_…' Dean still couldn't understand how she knew so much about their family, about him, about Sammy? But she helped a lot, when he seriously needed it. He owed her his gratitude. Dean swept a hand over Sam's long bangs and sighed. Getting his determination together, Dean got out from the car and made sure that both doors were locked and Sam was safe inside it.

Dean entered into the almost empty bar and scanned the whole interior, but didn't find who he was looking for. He went to the counter area where a young around the age of Sam was rearranging the beer bottles. Dean cleared his throat a little, "Ahh, excuse me."

The man turned to him and smiled, "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Ah, I am looking for someone. Can you call Sadie? Tell, Dean is waiting for her." Dean informed.

"Sadie, Sadie…" The man seemed to be thinking hard, "…actually I'm new here and I don't know everyone." The man smiled sheepishly.

"Well, she is the owner of this bar if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh oh, I understand…" The young man beamed, "…wait a second, Sally…" he barked, "…hey Sally, someone is looking for you."

Dean frowned as he hollered for Sally but he waited anyway.

A young girl around his age came to him. Well, she wasn't Sadie but looked kind of like her. She asked politely, "Yes, how can I help you."

"Umm, I was looking for Sadie, can you just call her?"

Sally stared at him for a couple of seconds like she was watching a ghost or something. She blinked in confusion and asked, "What?"

Now Dean was annoyed, _**'What the hell? Why she is staring at me like I'm some kinda' nutjob.'**_ Dean thought wryly and asked, "I said, can you call Sadie for me?"

"Are you kidding? She can't come here." The girl looked somewhat sad. "I assume you don't know about her. My mom, she died one year ago." The girl lowered her head to hide her sorrow.

Dean mouth was crestfallen as the shocking news entered into his brain. What the hell was happening? He gulped a couple of time. His palms were sweating. He swallowed, "How…how could…I just met her not more than seven or eight days ago? She…she…"

"You are insane." The girl looked p*ssed now, "How could she meet with you when she died a year ago? I think you mistook someone for her. Okay, I gotta go now." The girl stomped into the other corner of the bar.

Dean staggered out of the bar in blatant astonishment. He still couldn't believe that the woman he met only a week ago had not existed for a whole year! Then who…why did her spirit talk to him? Why did she make him think about Sam? He didn't even know her. He rubbed his face and looked to where the impala were parked. He could still see Sam's head resting against the window, obviously still sleeping. _**'Why is she worried about Sammy? Why her spirit…**_'

Suddenly a chilly wind from nowhere blew over his body and Dean shivered. It was like someone touched his face with a loving hand and it was so familiar. Dean could smell her scent, she was still there. She was there every time they needed her…

"Mom." Dean whispered and looked at the clear sky.

'_Dean'_…Dean heard a whisper from nowhere and smiled, "It was you mom. You were talking to me and tried to make me do right! But I was so stupid. I could not recognize you mom and I let Sammy…"

'_Shh…take care Dean and look out for Sammy…'_ The windy whisper came again and then it was gone.

Dean wiped away the single tear forming in his eye and suddenly felt that he needed to get close to his brother. He ran to the impala and opened his driver side door with a light squeak. Sam stirred a little and rolled his head towards Dean but didn't wake up. He mumbled something incoherently but quickly faded back into deep slumber as Dean carded his hand over his hair and soothed. Dean smiled and quietly said, "I will take care of him mom, don't worry. I will never let him out of my sight again. I love you mom and I promise you I will look after him until I die." Dean started the engine and sped up to their destination. He had his beloved car with him; he had his mother's shadow on him...and at last he had his greatest prize 'His Sammy' back with him. He was content and it was a brand new start for the Winchester brother's…again.

*******************************************~**~ THE END ~**~*********************************************

" **Happy Ending, now I just wanna say- awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…"**


End file.
